


Veterans of the Psychic Wars

by Kalireynn (sami), Kellwyntar (velithya)



Series: Veterans of the Psychic Wars Extended Universe [1]
Category: Supernatural RPF, miscellaneous - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Psychics/Psionics, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-atypical violence, I'll add more tags later, M/M, Other, Post-Apocalypse, Science Fiction, Suggestions welcome, there should probably be more tags than this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-03-10
Packaged: 2019-03-29 09:50:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 45,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13924629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sami/pseuds/Kalireynn, https://archiveofourown.org/users/velithya/pseuds/Kellwyntar
Summary: When the invasion came, no-one was ready. Humanity faltered. We died by the thousands, then by the millions. Nations fell before them before the survivors could begin to hold them back.The battles raged across the world, and communications became difficult, and then impossible. South America was gone. Before contact with Europe and Asia was lost, they were struggling, but surviving. In North America, the line held at last, a curve that stretched from Oregon to Louisiana. To the south, a battle-ravaged wasteland. To the north, the survivors and the refugees huddled beneath the shields of the Protected Zone, safe by the work of shield Psions who could form the only barrier that worked.Along the front, soldiers waged war at terrible cost against an enemy that was truly inhuman. The tides of war turned on the work of battlefront Psions and their Guardians, elite warriors who could change the course of a battle with their skill and power.At the most desperate moment in humanity's history, two men would face the battle: Jared Padalecki, a Psion whose power could only lead him to self-destruction alone in the face of the horrors of war, and Jensen Ackles, a Guardian fractured by his past.





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> As this fic was originally released in 2008, obviously it's finished. Life kind of fell off a cliff for your authors in the interim, so we never did release the sequels we intended yet, and I can't say it's a certainty anyone still wants them, but it's past time we at least put this up on AO3.
> 
> Chapters should go up pretty quickly - I just want to check it's formatting correctly as I go, as well as making sure that it's the correct and complete version of the story that I still have, about six computers on since we wrote this.

“Name?”  
  
“Padalecki, Jared T.”  
  
“Says here ‘Jay’. Isn’t that your name?”  
  
“Uh, yes, but this is the Army, sir, so...”  
  
“This isn’t the army, son. This is the Psionic Corps. Get on the bus, we’re already late.”  
  
“Sir, yes sir.”  
  
A pause. “You’ll learn.”  
  
\--  
  
The bus filled quickly. Most of the passengers entered in pairs. Some came laughing, some talked animatedly to one another, others were silent but clearly together, as if they no longer needed words to communicate. Jay was almost overwhelmed by the emotional bleed he could feel coming off the people he realised were Psions. There was a wholeness to them that was alien to him.  
  
He had grown accustomed to the nagging emptiness, the sense of incompleteness he always felt. He’d been told that this was normal in Psions without a bonded companion.  
  
These were bonded pairs, Psions and companions, some of them Guardians. He’d never met a bonded pair before, or a Guardian. The Guardians were disconcerting. The realisation struck him quickly that there were more people here than he could sense - if he closed his eyes, he wouldn’t know they were there.  
  
Knowing about Guardians, being _told_ about people whose minds could only be sensed by the Psion to whom they were bonded, was a very different thing from being around them. He took a deep breath, deliberately calming himself. They were people, even if they didn’t feel like people. He could handle this.  
  
The trip was going to be long, but Jay couldn’t bring himself to strike up a conversation with any of the other passengers. Each pair seemed so self-contained between them, as if speaking to them would be an intrusion.  
  
On the heels of that thought he noticed a sharp glance from a nearby Psion. He hadn’t shielded his dismay.  
  
“It’s okay,” the Psion said. “We don’t mean to be like that.” She smiled. “I’m Daria. This is Greg.”  
  
“Jay.” He returned the smile, noting that she did _not_ extend a hand in greeting. Psions rarely touched strangers.  
  
There were a lot of questions not to ask. Like _where are you from?_ Daria had a Californian accent. No-one wanted to be asked about homes that had been overrun, and even your home was intact, other people’s weren’t. He remembered Jeff telling him -  
  
Here, and now, on a Psionic Corps bus, the memory hurt.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Daria said softly. “I don’t want to intrude, but... if you want to talk about it... who’s Jeff?”  
  
He really needed to shield better around other Psions. “My brother,” he answered. “He died. A year ago.” He paused. “At the Battle of Little Rock.” He felt understanding dawn.  
  
“Was he a Psion too?”  
  
“No. Auxiliary Corps.”  
  
“I hear good things about them,” she offered. It wasn’t much, and he knew she knew it, but she was sincere, and sympathetic. These days hardly anyone alive hadn’t lost loved ones in the war.  
  
“I guess we’re going to find out.” He managed a smile, as the bus started rolling.  
  
_“It’s strange here, Little Jay,”_ Jeff had written. _“Nobody talks about home - nobody. You just don’t. If home’s outside the Protected Zone you don’t want to think about it, and if home’s inside the Zone, it’s bad taste to mention it in front of people who aren’t that lucky. It’s all about the Corps, instead, like nothing else matters as much as this does. Maybe it doesn’t...”_  
  
The bus rolled southwards. Jay spent a lot of time looking out the window, watching the scenery roll past, letting the minds of people and horses outside play across the edges of his senses. Motor vehicles were rare these days, and always military traffic - he felt the mixture of respect and pride, tinged with grief and resentment.  
  
They stopped periodically, for fuel, more passengers, meal breaks, rest stops. Around 9pm they finally halted for the night at O’Hare Military Complex. The former airport was a major hub of military activity - even after dark, it was well-lit and bustled with people.  
  
“Did you ever see an airplane, Jay?” Daria asked, looking past him at the expanse of parked vehicles and storage sheds built along an old runway.  
  
“I’ve seen pictures,” he replied. “I was pretty young when they stopped flying.”  
  
“Me too. They must have been something to see, though.”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
\--  
  
Inside, the complex was a hive of activity. The bus driver directed the recruits to what had been a second terminal in a past life, buildings ugly with armoured cladding and reinforcement, before heading for the Army mess. They passed signs declaring _Authorized Personnel Only_ below the stylised logo of the Psionic Corps, and then through a guarded entrance. For the first time, they entered the domain of the Corps.  
  
The first room they saw was a single vast hall, dominated at one end by a screen easily thirty feet across. On it glowed a map of North America, overlaid with a glittering, shifting chaos of coloured light. Brighter at some points, dimmer at others, it flared in rainbows at seemingly-random points across the map. Towards the south it was mostly red, until it became completely dark over places that had fallen to the enemy.  
  
The map, Jay realised, showed the Protected Zone. More importantly, it showed the shields that kept them safe.  
  
Below the screens were banks of equipment and electronics he couldn’t identify, and a small cluster of desks, occupied even this late at night by uniformed people who glanced up at the screen often. Jay heard one of the other recruits start to speak, and then fall silent as a woman’s voice issued from speakers around the hall, her tone neutral and formal.  
  
“Aerial incursions, generators five, seven, nine, clear. St. Louis pylon active, taking load. Alert status blue.” A man at one of the desks let out a weary-sounding cheer. Another stood and jogged across the hall towards the recruits.  
  
“Hi,” he greeted them. The bright lights of the hall flashed off the rank insignia on his shoulders that marked him a major from the Auxiliary Corps. “I’m Dylan. Welcome to Shield Complex Seven. Sorry to leave you waiting, we’re having a kind of busy night. Come on in.”  
  
He led them briskly through several long corridors, and through another gate, with signs reading _Psionic and Auxiliary Corps Personnel Only_.  
  
“We’re really not that antisocial,” Dylan said, gesturing to the signs. “But the Corps doesn’t work quite like the other branches of the military do, so we tend to keep our residential sections off-limits to outsiders.” He held the thick, heavy-looking door as the recruits passed through. “There were some pretty ugly incidents with visiting brass early in the history of the Corps. We don’t stand on ceremony.” He smiled slightly. “I’m supposed to be giving you a proper induction tonight before you move on to Forbes Field tomorrow, but you’re late and we’ve been under the gun dealing with attacks on the Protected Zone all day. Just pretend this is an orientation lecture.”  
  
The door swung shut, and Jay stumbled slightly, aware that the other Psions in the group were also registering shock. The psychic noise of the world, the background whisper of the minds of the people on the base - it was all gone. Even the sense of the other recruits was muted. “What the _hell?_ ” he heard someone say.  
  
“Oh, damn,” Dylan said, wincing. “I forgot to warn you. This section is heavily shielded. Generator Seven is ahead and to your left, and the people who power it are also here. This area is built to reduce a lot of noise and interference. I’m told you get used to it.”  
  
\--  
  
He showed them to the Corps mess hall. A serving line was set up against one wall, piles of trays and crockery laid out at one end, tables and chairs filling the rest of the room. The furniture was colourful, and looked out of place in the otherwise austere room. Jay had to wonder if it was a remnant of the airport, before it had been converted into a military base.  
  
When it was Jay’s turn in the line, he loaded his tray. Daria smiled and waved from her seat opposite Greg at a four person table, and Jay took a seat next to her. She stared at his meal as he set it down.  
  
“What?” he asked, slightly defensively.  
  
“Do you always eat like that?” she asked curiously.  
  
Jay looked at his tray, which contained three pizza slices, two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, a double serving of spaghetti, and a pleasing lack of vegetables. He also had two puddings. “Yeah. Why?”  
  
Daria stared at him. “No reason.”  
  
\--  
  
_Dear Momma,_  
  
_I reached St Paul okay. The Psionic Corps already had my name on file and we pretty much just got straight on the bus to O’Hare. We got here pretty late but things are still busy. I didn’t really think about it before but I suppose the Shield Complexes have to work around the clock._  
  
_All of the other Psions on the bus were paired. It made me feel a bit lonely. Most bonded partners are family and that didn’t seem to work with me. I guess it’s just something I’ll have to get used to. At least they’re feeding us here. I haven’t had a problem getting enough food in the mess._  
  
_Anyway, it’s time for us to turn in - we’ll have a long trip to Forbes Field tomorrow. Give my love to everyone._  
  
_-Jay_  
  
\--  
  
Jay found it difficult to sleep that night. His bunk was not uncomfortable, but the disturbing psychic resonance of the Shield Complex nagged at him. He lay awake in the darkness, all too conscious of the currents of thought around him. He could feel the other Psions, almost all asleep, wrapped for comfort in their connections to their partners. They glowed in the night, while he could only feel the void more keenly.  
  
Beyond the temporary barracks and the corridors of permanent quarters of the complex’s residents, the night staff moved, awake, alert... worried. Jay frowned. This wasn’t like the tension he’d grown accustomed to feeling bleed across the edge of his senses - there was an element of genuine fear, and one strong mind, not panicked, but with a sharp, bright edge of adrenaline.  
  
He felt the echoes of a decision in that mind, and then a chime rang through the barracks, softly at first, then louder, as the lights came up and the door opened to admit Dylan and a woman they hadn’t seen before.  
  
“Wake up, ladies and gentlemen,” Dylan called out. “All Psions out of bed and follow Christina, you’re needed. This is _not_ a drill. You can bring or leave your companions, it’s up to you.” He paused. “Now.”  
  
\--  
  
They were led to a circular room that looked terribly out of place in a military base. A glittering, prismatic sphere on a low stand was positioned in the centre of it. The padded floor was littered with cushions, and comfortable-looking couches ringed the room. Another door, opposite the one by which they entered, showed a similar chamber. Waiting in the room was a group of Psions. As Christina showed the recruits in, the Psions waiting immediately went to them, each going to a different recruit.  
  
“I’m Kyle,” said the young man who had come straight to Jay. He was short, with shoulder-length dark curls and an impish smile as he looked up at Jay, who towered over him. “Come on over here.” Kyle gestured vaguely at a couple of the couches as he led Jay towards them, and they moved, shifting to a comfortably close conversational distance. “Relax.” He dropped into one of the couches and gestured Jay to the other.  
  
“What’s going on?” Jay asked, as he took the other couch.  
  
“We have a major incursion to the shields incoming. It looks like a missile attack from orbit, with possible attempted landing parties inside the Protected Zone.” He nodded sympathetically as Jay’s breath caught in horror. “It’s somewhat concerning, yes. So we’re bringing all of you in to help boost the psionic shield.”  
  
“But I don’t know how -” Jay began, but Kyle held up a hand.  
  
“We know. That’s why you’ve got a partner.” He smiled winningly. “I’ll guide you through it. I promise to be gentle.” He gave Jay the ghost of a wink, and extended a hand. “Take my hand.” Jay’s palm tingled as it met Kyle’s. “Good,” Kyle said softly.  
  
“That’s... different,” Jay said. His throat seemed oddly tight, and he felt as if his body temperature had jumped several degrees.  
  
“Breathe,” Kyle told him gently, rubbing his thumb over the back of Jay’s hand. “Just breathe. Let the energy flow.”  
  
Jay lay back on the couch and closed his eyes, slightly dizzy with the unfamiliar sensations. The forces he channelled inside himself to use his abilities were shifting, surging as power coursed through him. He could feel Kyle’s energy, flowing into him and merging with his own, ebbing back along the link with his ragged breathing.  
  
“Excellent.” Kyle’s voice was low in his ear. “Now focus on the lens.”  
  
Not trusting himself to speak, Jay nodded, and forced himself to look at the sphere in the centre of the room. It seemed brighter now, and the swirling colours were hypnotic. “Focus,” Kyle repeated. “Now push with me. All the energy we can send, into the lens.”  
  
He pushed, feeling Kyle move with him. They quickly found a rhythm, pumping power into the lens and onward into the shield network. Jay could feel the touch of the minds of the Psions who crewed the Shield Generator, shaping the shield that preserved the Protected Zone from the pylons that amplified their power. Jay could feel the pylons, feel the burn across his senses as the assault struck and was repelled by the shield.  
  
He almost lost the sense of himself entirely, anchored only by the pressure of Kyle’s fingers against his own. He was joined with the other minds in the shield, moving with them as they began to intercept the missiles before they could strike, breaking them apart and casting the nuclear warheads back into space, scattering them across the sky to join the field of debris beyond the upper atmosphere. It was exhilarating to be part of it, to feel the sheer scale of the power shifting until his command.  
  
It seemed like an eternity before the attack ceased. The generator crew gradually released them from contact, withdrawing until Jay was back to awareness of himself, limp on the couch, reduced to a gentler link to Kyle. He felt wrung out and exhausted, aware that his clothes were soaked with sweat, and that the whisper of energy left between them was perhaps all he had left.  
  
Kyle squeezed his hand. Jay looked over.  
  
“We made it,” Kyle said softly.  
  
“We did.” Jay smiled. He went to stand up, and staggered.  
  
“Hey, steady,” Kyle said, jumping to his feet and grabbing him supportively. “Your first time on battery duty can be rough. Take it easy.”  
  
“Yeah. Thanks.” Jay straightened.  
  
“Listen, the barracks showers are going to be rushed in a few minutes,” Kyle said. “Want to come back to my quarters?” He paused. “I have a bathtub. You can soak.”  
  
“... I’m there.”  
  
\--  
  
A long soak in Kyle’s tub eased the tension from Jay’s muscles, and he found himself almost falling asleep in the water. Finally he dragged himself out, wrapping a towel around his waist.  
  
Kyle looked up as he exited the bathroom. Jay didn’t miss the appreciative look in his eyes as Kyle glanced up and down his body, but Kyle’s gaze didn’t linger as he tossed the book he’d been reading aside and stood. “You’re ridiculously tall, so I figured you could take the bed,” he said casually. “There’s no point sending you back to the dorms at this time of night. The sofa’s very comfortable.”  
  
“Kyle, you’ve been great, I couldn’t...”  
  
“You could. You should. You will.” Kyle grinned at him. “Now let me at my own bathroom, already.”  
  
\--  
  
Jay woke some time in the early afternoon. He felt refreshed, his energies once again at his command. Kyle was standing by the window, wearing his uniform pants but no shirt, his pale skin glowing in the sunlight. He glanced around as Jay stirred and smiled. “You’ve been held over another day to recover from last night’s emergency,” he drawled. “Recruits aren’t meant to be exposed to those kinds of pressures.”  
  
“We did okay.”  
  
“You did indeed.” Kyle smiled. He looked like he was about to say something else, and then Jay’s stomach rumbled loudly. “How about we go get some breakfast?”  
  
\--  
  
The Corps mess hall was closed. Power had been diverted from that section to the shields during the previous night’s attack, and the generator they’d lost had not yet been replaced. Instead they went to the general mess in the Army’s section of the O’Hare Complex.  
  
Jay found himself flinching as the door opened. He’d become accustomed to being within the shielded area of the complex, and the surge of psychic noise against his senses, scraped raw by the previous night’s battle, was almost painful. Kyle reached up and rubbed the back of Jay’s neck lightly, a warm rush of energy passing through the contact to bolster Jay’s own shields.  
  
“It gets easier,” he murmured.  
  
The private on serving duty refused to give Jay extra dessert. He was about to protest when Kyle, frowning, caught the man’s eye. “ **Three puddings** ,” he said, in a disconcertingly intense voice. The private blinked, and set three desserts on Jay’s tray. Kyle smiled. “Come on,” he said to Jay.  
  
“What was that?” Jay asked, as they sat down.  
  
“It’s a bit of a party trick. It only really works on people without very strong minds.” Kyle looked amused. “They have _lots_ of pudding, and even if we’re eating with the Army, the Psionic Corps has standards to maintain.”  
  
As they ate, Kyle kept up a light conversation. His attitude to the Corps was faintly irreverent but Jay didn’t doubt he was dedicated to his work as part of a generator crew. He spoke of his crewmates with what seemed like real affection, though Jay also observed that Kyle was still flirting with him.  
  
After the meal Jay followed Kyle back to his room. He had to duck as they entered, being a bit too tall for the doorway.  
  
“Jay, you are freakishly tall,” Kyle observed again. “It’s possibly some kind of character flaw.”  
  
“We can’t all be midgets,” Jay grinned.  
  
“I’m big where it counts.” Kyle smirked. “How about you?”  
  
Jay raised an eyebrow and moved towards Kyle, backing him into the wall. “Want to find out?” He leaned down until their faces were almost touching.  
  
“Absolutely,” Kyle breathed, and kissed him, twisting his hips, one leg between Jay’s. Jay hummed with pleasure and leaned into the pressure, then gasped as Kyle jerked, sweeping his legs out from under him and falling with him, catching them both telekinetically before they hit the ground and lowering them gently.  
  
“Nice,” Jay said, as Kyle nuzzled at his neck. His back arched as Kyle bit gently at his neck, one hand sliding down to smooth his palm over Jay’s groin.  
  
“ _Very_ nice,” he purred. Jay silenced him with another kiss.  
  
\--  
  
The shrill beeping of an alarm hit Jay like a rush of cold water. “Is that another alert?” he asked, panting for breath. Kyle slapped at his nightstand and the beeping stopped.  
  
“No, I have duty in an hour.” He moved, and Jay gasped. “We still have some time...”  
  
“How long do you need to get ready?” Jay asked.  
  
“Twenty minutes.” Kyle made a choked noise as Jay grazed the line of his pecs with his teeth. “Uh, ten minutes.”  
  
\--  
  
The Corps mess hall was back in operation by the time Jay parted company with Kyle, who was heading off at a dead run to get to his duty shift on time. Jay went to get dinner. A small group of the other recruits were at a table. Daria waved to Jay to join them.  
  
“It’s past eight - uh, twenty hundred hours, Jay,” she said as he sat down. “Where’ve you been? We were wond- is that a _hickey_?”  
  
Startled, Jay slapped a hand over the left side of his neck. “Uh...”  
  
Daria laughed. “Other side too, Jay.”  
  
Red-faced, Jay tugged his collar upright to cover the marks, then relaxed, grinning slightly sheepishly. “Hey, we had some time to kill, you know?”  
  
“You look a bit tired. Was it worth it?”  
  
“ _Hell_ yeah.”  
  
\--  
  
The next morning, they gathered their belongings and boarded the troop train, in the charge of Dylan, who was to accompany them to the Academy. The rail lines that connected the Shield Complexes were the fastest way to travel since air flight became impossible, and Jay was quite eager for the experience. He hurried to get a window seat. Daria and Greg took the other two seats in the row.  
  
Once the thrill of watching the landscape go past in a blur of motion ebbed, the view got dull, an irregular stream of hills, woods and houses.  
  
And then, suddenly, a charred plain was rushing past the windows, black and desolate and ugly. Jay stared. “What the hell is that?”  
  
Daria looked past him, and sighed sadly. Greg explained. “They used to let rain and snow fall onto the ground instead of redirecting it over the shield and into the canals.” He paused. “Then the clouds got poisoned from orbit. The rain fell there. Most plants died... some mutated. The whole area had to be torched to stop anything spreading.”  
  
Jay watched the ruined land pass, until finally the signs of life returned. He had never given too much thought to their enemy, the lectors - he was aware of the war, of how central it was to everyone, but he’d never really thought about who they were fighting, too distanced. Even when Jeff had gone to fight, he hadn’t talked much about who he was fighting - Jay had heard about the Corps, not about the enemy.  
  
He still hadn’t seen one, but he’d felt their assault, and seen their work. A shiver ran down his spine.  
  
Wordlessly, Daria squeezed his hand.  
  
\--  
  
The train drew to a halt at the platform outside the Psionic Corps Academy, a place almost legendary for what it did and a surprisingly unimposing sight. It seemed to be a collection of rather plain buildings arranged around a central quadrangle, with some smaller outlying buildings, and surrounded by fields stacked with equipment whose purpose Jay couldn’t quite determine.  
  
Stepping off the train, Jay realised a popping sound he’d heard was gunfire - inside the Academy.  
  
“Come on, step lively,” Dylan said cheerfully.  
  
“Sir, do you hear...”  
  
Dylan frowned at him. “I said step lively, recruit. Let’s move.”  
  
He set off at a brisk pace, and Jay, anxiously preparing a shield for himself and others if necessary, followed with the others.  
  
As the courtyard came into view through the gates, Jay saw a number of bodies lying on the ground. The shock of horror faded as he realised they were heavily spattered with paint, not blood, and the courtyard itself was streaked with paint and filled with barricades and obstacles.  
  
A group of five men, in uniforms still free of paint, were moving across the courtyard, converging on the only other upright person Jay could see. As he watched, one of the shots they fired hit him in the chest. He dropped to the ground.  
  
“Is that it?” he heard one of the group say.  
  
“Still one more - ow!” another replied, and started to drop. Paint had exploded across his upper body as another man, moving fast enough that he was just a blur, leapt over one of the barricades, firing once as he came over and again as he landed, then slashing at two more of the soldiers with a plastic-looking sword that left bright blue streaks across their chests. As the last clean soldier began to turn towards him, he dove between the falling bodies of the ones he had already hit and rolled, coming to his feet behind him, gun levelled at his ribs.  
  
He fired.  
  
“The hell -” the last man began.  
  
“You’re dead, soldier,” the man who had shot him said, and swung a sweeping kick that dropped him to the ground.  
  
The victor looked around, expression calm, and nodded as if to himself. Jay wondered how he could be so calm after the fight he’d just had - he’d taken down all five guys within seconds. It was impressive and daunting all at once. Would they expect him to do learn to do the same?  
  
A crackle of static heralded an announcement from speakers around the courtyard. “Exercise complete. All recruits have thirty minutes to clean up, then report to your section leaders for debriefing.”  
  
The courtyard cleared quickly as the paint-covered soldiers stood and filed quickly into the buildings. The last man standing also jogged away, the crowd of people parting to let him through.  
  
A short, red-haired woman, dressed in an immaculate Psionic Corps uniform instead of one of the coloured jumpsuits the combatants had worn, stepped out from one of the near buildings and came towards them. Dylan straightened as he saw her. “The new recruits, Major Anderson,” he said, his tone respectful.  
  
The woman looked them over, not speaking immediately. She was beautiful, Jay realised, and wondered why that seemed like a surprise when he’d only just seen her. There was something about her that seemed too remote - she had Psion insignia on her uniform, but her shields were so thorough he could barely sense her at all, and her expression gave nothing away.  
  
Finally, she nodded. “Take them to the office. Then go. If you hurry you can catch the train back.”  
  
“Yes ma’am.” Dylan gestured to the recruits. “This way.” He led them across the courtyard at a brisk pace.  
  
Major Anderson watched them go, her expression inscrutable.  
  
\--  
  
At the small administrative office, they were issued with uniforms, official Psionic Corps (Cadet) ID, and bunking assignments in the cadet barracks. After they deposited their belongings, a group of cadets, most still slightly paint-marked, were assigned to show them around.  
  
The cadet assigned to Jay had a British accent and a cocky grin. “I’m Christopher,” he introduced himself. “There’s not much to see, really, but let’s go.”  
  
Christopher took him briefly around the central square, pointing out locations. The Psion and Auxiliary Corps barracks were on opposing sides of the square; on the remaining sides, and around them, were training halls, classrooms, and fields laid out for training exercises, including what looked like the most tortuous obstacle course Jay had ever seen. Christopher left the mess hall until last. It was over two levels on the side of the Psion barracks overlooking the central square.  
  
They collected lunch and went to the balcony of the upper level, where Christopher pointed out buildings they hadn’t visited, and people he thought Jay should know.  
  
“See that guy?” Christopher pointed out a grim-looking soldier crossing the square. Jay recognised him - he’d been the last man standing in the morning’s training exercise. “That’s Jen. Watch out for him. He’s a Guardian prospect with no Psion, and he’s fucking psycho.”  
  
“Psycho how?”  
  
“Kill you in your sleep how. He never smiles, barely talks, he just trains and goes on field missions and comes back and trains some more.” Christopher smirked nastily. “Watch this.” As Jen approached the building, Christopher flicked a piece of carrot over the rails towards him. Jay watched as Jen caught it, seeming without looking, and kept walking, passing from view beneath the balcony.  
  
A few moments later, he was stepping out onto the balcony. Seen close to, he was unusually handsome, but with grimness to his demeanour that was less than appealing. His voice, when he spoke, was almost a growl. “Throwing food at people isn’t exactly very nice,” he said levelly.  
  
Jay blinked. Jen was scary intense physically, but as far as his psychic awareness went, it was like he just wasn’t there. He wasn’t used to Guardians. He wasn’t sure he liked it. “I didn’t,” he stammered. “It was, uh.” He paused, not quite wanting to look like a snitch on his first day, and suddenly aware that Christopher was now _invisible_ , manifesting a psionic talent Jay had never even heard of.  
  
Jen looked at him for long moments. “I get it. A joke on the new guy.” He picked up Christopher’s coffee and very deliberately upended it over Christopher’s chair. It poured over him, shaping the outline of his body in a three-dimensional stain. “You’re hilarious.” An eyebrow twitched slightly as he looked back at Jay, and then he turned and was gone.  
  
“Bastard,” Christopher muttered, fading back into view as he wiped ineffectually at the mess with a napkin.  
  
Jay grinned, almost dizzy with the release from the intense moment. “Him or you?”  
  
Christopher paused. “Yeah, fair comment, really.” He chuckled.  
  
\--  
  
_Dear Momma,_  
  
_We arrived at the Academy this afternoon. It’s not quite like I was expecting. When we arrived there were a bunch of soldiers training with paint guns in the courtyard. I know they can’t train with real weapons like that but it just seemed a bit odd. I guess the Psionic Corps is full of little surprises like that. I suppose I’ll get used to it._  
  
_We didn’t do much today, just got shown around the place. The real training is going to start tomorrow. I have a bunch of classes, learning to fight, train my powers, that sort of thing. I’m a bit nervous because I haven’t had a lot of training. A lot of the guys here have a big headstart on me. I hope I do okay._  
  
_There are more Guardians here. They freak me out, a little, because I can’t sense them at all. I know they’re just people with abilities, like me, and I shouldn’t be worried about them but there’s just something about the way I can’t tell they’re there that just has me on edge. I guess that’s just something else I’ll have to get used to._  
  
_Anyway, early start tomorrow so I should probably head to bed. Love to everyone._  
  
_-Jay_


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We cast every character in this. Some of them are actors, some of them are fictional characters. I'm not sure if I ever told Kellwyntar, though, that one of the characters in this section is actually a cricket player.

Jay’s first class the next morning was Unarmed Combat with Captain Baldwin. He was only mildly nervous... until a smiling adjutant entered the room and announced that Captain Baldwin had been recalled to the front and a student-instructor would be taking his place,  
  
“Cadet-Captain?” she called, beckoning.  
  
And Jen stepped forward from the shadows at the side of the hall. “Ma’am.” He saluted, then turned to face the class as she walked briskly out. There was a long silence as Jen surveyed the ranks of cadets. Jay could sense the waves of surprise and nervousness around him.  
  
“Okay,” Jen finally said. “You.” He pointed at someone in the front row. “Pick three friends, and attack me.”  
  
The cadet Jen had chosen was someone Jay didn’t know, but the guy glanced at the ranks and seemed to go for the biggest men he could see. Jay, taller by a couple of inches than the next tallest person around, was the first he chose.  
  
The four of them ranged loosely around Jen, who simply waited, eyes half-closed, thumbs hooked in his belt.  
  
Finally the cadet standing behind Jen, with a tiny shrug, aimed a snap kick at Jen’s ribs. Jen spun, intercepting the cadet’s ankle and knocking him off his feet with an open-handed blow to his shoulder, even as he kicked out behind him and knocked another cadet flying to the mat.  
  
Feeling like this was a very bad idea, Jay moved in. He didn’t see exactly what Jen did, but he felt the impact as Jen’s foot connected with his stomach. It winded him, despite the padded boots Jen wore, and sent him falling backwards.  
  
Reflex kicked in. Jay caught himself telekinetically and _split_ , forming a copy of himself out of psychic energy, a few feet back from Jen. As he reapproached the instructor, who had now disposed of the others, he deliberately caught and held eye contact, hoping Jen wouldn’t realise that his second self was moving in from behind.  
  
The class was muttering as they watched. He hoped, too, that Jen wouldn’t realise what about.  
  
He took another bruising kick, this one on the thigh, that sent his body spinning away even as his second self grappled Jen from behind. Jen’s face registered shock even as he twisted in Jay’s grip, escaping the hold and whirling to face the new threat.  
  
Jay waited, both selves wary, as Jen surveyed the three cadets lying groaning on the mats and the two images of Jay.  
  
“Not bad,” Jen said quietly. “I said to attack me. I didn’t say how.”  
  
Jay let the second self dissipate as Jen faced the class. “You’re equipped to go armed at all times. Psions have their powers and any physical weapons they might need. Guardians carry guns, swords, and other things we’ll teach you to use. None of it means _shit_ , though, unless you’re thinking like a fighter. Psions and Guardians are dangerous not because we’re well-armed soldiers. We’re dangerous because we’ll fight, and we’ll win, armed with anything from a tactical nuke on down to bare knuckles. Unarmed combat training is here to teach you to be dangerous. You don’t get points for playing nice.” He grasped the collar of one of the cadets he’d fought and pulled him to his feet. “Everyone warm up, then I’ll show you how I did that.”  
  
When the class was well begun, Jen pulled Jay from the ranks of cadets practising the moves he had demonstrated.  
  
“I’ve never seen that before.” He spoke softly. “You should learn some group melee tactics. It’ll help. See Captain Waugh this afternoon. Tell him I said to enroll you in small unit combat.” Jen frowned slightly. “You’re behind the curve for fighting skills but that can be corrected.”  
  
“Yes, sir.”  
  
Jen’s frown deepened. “Not sir. I’m a cadet. Jen will do. Now get back to work.”  
  
“Yes... Jen.” Jay smiled shyly, as Jen turned on his heel to return to the rest of the class.  
  
\--  
  
What with one thing and another, it was hard for Jay not to notice Jen when he saw him around now. The guy stood out... not least because everyone else seemed to give him a wide berth. Even in the mess hall, people avoided him, clearing tables completely as he approached.  
  
Jay felt bad for him. Jen was stony-faced through it all, but it couldn’t be fun being treated like that.  
  
So a few days after the first Unarmed Combat class, he got his lunch at the counter, steeled himself, and went to Jen’s table.  
  
“Mind if I join you?” he asked, trying to sound casual.  
  
Jen looked mildly surprised, but shrugged. Jay sat across for him, smiling nervously.  
  
“I’m Jay. I’m new. I think you know that. I’m from Kansas, originally, but I mostly grew up in Minnesota.” He speared some potato from his plate. Jen seemed to be listening, but he made no move to answer. Feeling slightly foolish, Jay rattled on, and told Jen about coming to the Academy. “I mean, I never thought I’d be a soldier... but they say I can be a Psion, and they need me, and so I signed on. Even though I don’t have a Guardian. I hear they’re usually relatives, you know, family... and my parents don’t have powers, or at least I don’t think they do, I mean, my dad’s in management and Mom’s a teacher... and I only ever had one brother, and we weren’t... you know. So we’ll see, I guess.”  
  
Jen ate some broccoli.  
  
“I got transferred into that small unit tactics course you said I should go into. Did Captain Waugh tell you?”  
  
Jen nodded slowly.  
  
“Great.” Jay smiled, and bit into a sausage. “Is that all you’re eating?”  
  
Jen blinked, looked down at his plate, and then back at Jay.  
  
“Huh.” Jay shook his head. There wasn’t nearly enough food on Jen’s plate, and most of it seemed to be vegetables.  
  
\--  
  
Small Unit Tactics was a course few Psions took, apparently populated almost entirely with Auxiliary Corps soldiers and other Guardian-talents. Jay noticed almost immediately in his first class that there was the different attitude of the other experienced soldiers towards Jen. There was none of the smug disdain in which Christopher, and to a lesser extent other Psions, held him; these guys had absolute respect for his martial prowess.  
  
After one training bout, when three of them took him on unsuccessfully, Jay overheard them discussing it as Jen worked with the next group.  
  
“Did you see that? I almost landed two punches.”  
  
“Yeah. Awesome, man.”  
  
They meant it. It was kind of funny, the way these guys seemed to worship Jen, even as none of them dared to talk to him in anything but the most respectfully businesslike way. Under his watchful eyes they took Jay on. One of them started to say something when they beat him easily, but Jen cleared his throat ostentatiously and they shut up.  
  
“He’s got potential,” Captain Waugh said thoughtfully. “Jen, work with him privately. Get him up to speed.”  
  
“Yes sir.” Jen’s tone was neutral.  
  
\--  
  
Jen knew he was a Guardian candidate, knew it was his duty to the Corps to come back to the Academy with every new group of recruits and train them, see if he could work with them - if they could work with him. There were more than a few rumours floating around the barracks about him, and while yeah, some of them were true, it didn’t help the situation any. Didn’t help the situation any that Jen disliked people in general, or that most of the unpaired Psions were unmitigated jerks, either.  
  
Gabriel was a telekinetic asshole, and the only reason he was unpaired was that his last three assigned Guardian prospects were KIA. Jen could handle him, but that would likely end up with Gabriel coming back in a body bag, and the Corps needed all the psions they could get, even the crazy ones. He didn’t envy the Guardian that got stuck with him, if Gabriel ever ended up managing to bond with anyone.  
  
Christopher was just a jerk who liked playing tricks on the soldiers because he could. Given that Jen didn’t need his eyes to track where Christopher was (and it had taken some concentration not to smirk the time he passed Christopher, still covered in industrial strength red paint after the first time he’d tried to pull something over on Jen, although it finally took pinning his ass to the wall and telling him how it was going to be before he got the message), he didn’t stand for his shit. And since Jen did prefer to make it back from missions, he wasn’t going to pair up with a Psion who actively disliked him. Guardians were semi-rare, sure, but Psions were priceless, and if Christopher came back without him there wouldn’t be many questions asked - or at least none that he wouldn’t be able to answer with a minute’s thought to a plausible story.  
  
Then there were the new Psions, the ones who’d only just arrived at the Academy and were being trained for the field. Although he mainly worked alone or with specialised squads, Jen’d seen enough newcomers in the field to gauge how they would react.  
  
Jim was a bleeding heart, and Jen hadn’t heard what his power was yet but it would have to be something special, to get him into the Corps. Jen thought Jim would be more at home in a small country town in what was left of the Protected Zone, just living his life and caring for folks. He wasn’t cut out for combat, and if he didn’t get killed early or get second thoughts and make a run for it, Jen was going be surprised as hell.  
  
Kristen seemed comfortable with her power - some sort of electricity control - but Jen thought she was almost _too_ comfortable about frying people. Which might have made her easier for him to work with, actually, if she wasn’t so damn arrogant about it. Jen and authority had never really gotten along, and he thought he’d have the same problem with her. Add that to quick decisions in the field where she would underestimate the enemy, and she quickly became someone he didn’t want to work with.  
  
And then there was Jay. Jen didn’t have a total handle on his power, yet - it was something new, something he hadn’t seen, something that had potential he wasn’t sure how to use best - but the Psion seemed strangely clueless about almost everything. He always seemed to think the best of people, even when proven wrong, and as far as Jen could tell he liked everyone, or at least gave a damn good impression of it. He was annoying, was what he was, the way he kept coming up to Jen like some kind of damn puppy, and Jen would sleep much better at night if he hadn’t caught an unguarded expression on his face once, pure joy at a clear morning, because now he couldn’t help but feel a little regret that the first combat Jay saw was sure to wipe those expressions right off his face. And the fact that he was thinking that was also annoying.  
  
Jen sighed, checked his weapons, straightened his collar, and headed out the door, kicking it closed behind him. He was due for a training session with the kid in ten minutes. God help him.  
  
\--  
  
“I heard you got assigned to do extra duty with Jen,” Christopher said, dropping into the mess hall chair next to Jay’s. “How’s that going?”  
  
Jay shrugged. “Combat training. I haven’t really done a lot of fighting before I got here.”  
  
“You poor bastard.” Christopher grinned. “If I had to do extra duty with the bloodthirstiest psychopath in the Corps I think I’d resign. Any last words?”  
  
Jay frowned. “It’s _training_. He’s going to teach me to fight.”  
  
“Yeah, good luck with that. Maybe it’ll go better than it did for the last guy. Jen’s the darling of the officer corps... for one reason or another.” Christopher smirked. “He is awfully pretty. So even though the poor sod ended up in hospital Jen’s still cadet-captain and instructor. Keep it in mind.”  
  
Jay glared at him. “Christopher, you’re just being a dick. I can feel that you’re lying. Jen’s a guy who’s good at what he does.”  
  
“I see the pretty isn’t lost on you either.”  
  
Jay rolled his eyes and scooped up the last bite of his lunch. “Shut up, Christopher.” He rose and walked away quickly.  
  
Without looking back, he reached out with his mind and weakened the joints on Christopher’s chair. As Christopher leaned back, the chair collapsed noisily.  
  
Jay smirked and hurried on to meet Jen for training.  
  
\--  
  
“I said to move right,” he heard Jen say. His voice sounded like it was coming from far away.  
  
Jay retched, doubled over on his knees, as his stomach protested taking the force of Jen’s kick. As he caught his breath and looked up, Jen tossed him a water bottle. “Clean yourself up a little. And next time don’t eat so much before training.”  
  
“Sorry.” Jay grimaced and rinsed his mouth out as Jen pulled up the mat segment he’d fouled and took it outside. He replaced it from the pile stacked against the wall and offered Jay a hand up.  
  
“Don’t be sorry. Do better next time. Go again.”  
  
Jay nodded, took position, and this time shifted right as Jen kicked out. Obedient to Jen’s patient training, he caught Jen’s ankle in one hand and pulled as he twisted to kick in return. He landed a glancing blow on Jen’s ribs.  
  
“Better.” Jen stepped back. “Again.”  
  
\--  
  
_Hey Momma,_  
  
_We’ve only been here a week but it feels like longer. I guess with schedules like ours that’s pretty standard. I’m taking a lot of combat classes. With my particular talent I’m in Small Unit Combat as well. I’m the only Psion in the class, the rest are Auxiliary Corps soldiers, but they’re not bad guys. I’m behind them in terms of training but I’m taking single classes with a Guardian called Jen to get me up to speed. I think I’m starting to get used to Guardians - being around Jen doesn’t bother me as much._  
  
_Okay, gotta run - the mess closes soon and I’ve still gotta eat dinner. All my love._  
  
_-Jay_  
  
\--  
  
A few weeks later, Jay returned to the barracks to find Christopher holding court with a handful of the other new cadets.  
  
“Captain Waugh is okay,” Christopher said. “Really. He knows what he’s doing and he’s decent about things. But if he can’t take a class... you get a cadet-instructor. Usually Jen. You need to watch out for him.”  
  
“I had him this afternoon,” one of the new Psions said. “He’s... tough.”  
  
“Psychotic is the word,” Christopher said. “He has a terrible record of...” He paused significantly. “Incidents.”  
  
“Like what?”  
  
“Well.” Christopher grinned. “I hear some of the Infirmary staff keep a tally of the guys Jen’s sent there. His first night in the Guardian barracks... he was the youngest cadet ever, and nobody knew how unstable he was. So the older guys try to bring him into the Corps like usual, and he takes something wrong and just snaps... broke one guy’s arm and left another with a lot less teeth than he used to have. And that was only the beginning...” Christopher shook his head. “But he’s good at what he does, no-one can deny it... and I’m sure you’ve noticed the bastard is inhumanly good-looking, so he gets away with -”  
  
“Shut up, Christopher,” Jay interrupted sharply. “I don’t know why you’ve got a grudge against Jen but he’s not a bad guy. He isn’t.”  
  
Christopher smirked. “And he sure is pretty, isn’t he, Jay?” He looked at the other cadets. “Jay’s been taking some private classes with Jen.”  
  
“Christopher, you -” Jay began.  
  
“No, listen to me, Jay,” Christopher interrupted sharply. “Think about how this works. Jen’s the golden boy of the officers but he’s dangerous and violent and he gets people killed. You can either sign on with the violence-worshipping soldiers who idolise him or you can be realistic about what he represents and avoid him. He’s not one of us.”  
  
Jay took a deep breath, counting silently. “You know, Christopher, I think I’d rather be one of them than one of you.”  
  
Christopher regarded him for a long moment. “Fine. Have it your way.”  
  
\--  
Things got awkward after that. There was a tension around the Psion barracks - a few people were siding with Christopher, though Jay sensed, occasionally, that a part of their resentment was a distrust of the Guardian talents. He could see where that came from - almost all Psions were empaths and it was easy, comfortable, to know what other people were feeling. Guardians were strange to get used to, jarring in the way they were invisible mentally.  
  
Some of the Psions, he knew, didn’t quite think of Guardians as human.  
  
Christopher needled Jay whenever he could, often about Jen. Jay, in turn, avoided spending time around the Psions. He tended instead to spend his time training, or studying tactical simulations in the Academy’s small library. He ate with Jen when he saw him in the mess, if only to spite Christopher.  
  
Late one morning, as he stopped by the barracks to collect his gear for training after lunch, one of the others approached him. It was Ian, a Welsh Psion who was bonded to Gwen, a genuine Guardian who was training for a field partnership. He and Jay weren’t close, but Ian stayed carefully aloof from the conflict between Jay and Christopher.  
  
“Watch out,” Ian said softly. “I hear Christopher’s thinking of planning something unfriendly.” Before Jay could answer, Ian raised his voice and called to Gwen, hurrying away.  
  
Jay went to the mess hall in a dispirited mood. He was too far from home and too alienated from the other recruits. He didn’t fit in with the Psions and he wasn’t really like the soldiers. Somehow the high point of his day had become eating with someone who only ever talked - when he talked at all - about fighting, and training, and tactics. Who probably hated the way Jay bugged him at mealtimes.  
  
He sat alone at a table with his tray of burgers and fries, despondently drawing patterns in his ketchup with a fry as he ate a burger with his other hand. He was starting his second burger when he became aware of a shadow falling across him. Looking up, he saw Jen, carrying a tray of his own. “Hey,” he greeted him, startled.  
  
“Jay.” Jen took a plate off his tray and set it down by Jay’s before taking the seat across from him. The plate contained a selection of vegetables.  
  
“Jen, man, what... Why the vegetables?” Jay asked, bewildered.  
  
Jen quirked an eyebrow at him as he bit into a carrot.  
  
Jay felt himself starting to smile. “You can’t expect me to eat these, they taste awful.”  
  
Jen looked at him steadily.  
  
“Oh, hell.” Jay sighed and reluctantly picked up a carrot of his own.  
  
\--  
  
Jay glanced around the mess hall as he entered. He could see Jen, already at a table, alone with his coffee. He noted that, as he often seemed to, Jen was skipping breakfast. Jay didn’t approve.  
  
Jen nodded acknowledgement as Jay sat down, but didn’t look twice at the mountain of breakfast on Jay’s tray. Jay smiled innocently as he took one of the plates and set it in front of Jen, who blinked at him.  
  
“Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, you know,” Jay said mildly. Jen stared at him, but Jay matched him, his smile becoming something of a smirk.  
  
Finally Jen rolled his eyes and extended his hand. Jay slapped knife and fork into his palm.  
  
“I hear that a team from the forward base in south Texas is coming by to assess the Auxiliary Corps recruits today,” he said conversationally. “It should be interesting.”  
  
Jen had stopped eating. “Yeah,” he said. “Huh.”  
  
“I was kind of hoping to go over that double-kick we were working on yesterday,” Jay continued. “I don’t seem to have the hang of it at all.”  
  
“You keep letting your weight fall on your left foot. You need to snap back faster and do the second in the same movement, or you run out of momentum. I’ll show you again before anything starts.” Jen returned to his food.  
  
Around midmorning, Jay was working on psionic defence from physical attacks, shaping shields around him to deflect small, hard balls that Jen and some of the soldiers were pitching at him from around the room. It was a control exercise - the balls had to bounce, but in theory, he should control the angle of deflection for useful redirection. Today he was supposed to be directing the balls towards the soldiers.  
  
He was sweating from the effort when someone knocked on the training room door. Jen immediately called a halt to the exercise. “Get some water, Jay, that was good work,” he said, before turning to the newcomer.  
  
A man stood in the doorway, almost as tall as Jay but significantly more muscular. He had dark hair, long and styled in heavy dreadlocks, unusual even in the relaxed standards of the Auxiliary Corps whose uniform he wore, and a neatly-trimmed goatee. He was fully armed, and was directing a wolfish grin at Jen.  
  
“Sergeant Dex,” Jen said coolly. “I take it you’re here to look over the PAC recruits.”  
  
“Yup,” Dex answered, easing into the room. “I see you’re in training. Want a hand?”  
  
“For a demonstration?”  
  
“Exactly.”  
  
“Sure.” Jen glanced around. “Everyone stand by the walls.”  
  
Jay expected him to cross to the racks of practice weapons, but he didn’t. Instead, Jen took his own weapons off the hook where he’d hung them at the start of practice. He belted them on and stepped to the middle of the room.  
  
Dex, still grinning, moved towards him. They drew their swords, the lights glinting off the bright, _sharp_ metal. Jay stood against the wall, uncertain - all he could sense from Dex was a pleasant anticipation of a challenge, and a warm affection towards Jen he wasn’t sure he’d ever sensed from anyone else.  
  
Then they moved, and he stopped thinking about anything but what he was seeing.  
  
Jen waited with familiar poise as Dex approached. He swayed aside easily as Dex feinted with his sword, then blocked a kick at knee height and struck back with a punch to Dex’s jaw. The sergeant dropped low to avoid the blow, swinging a scything kick at Jen’s legs in the same motion. Jen dropped, but rolled, coming to his feet immediately and bringing his sword into play. The hall rang with the sound of metal striking metal, but their weapons were a blur.  
  
Jay realised he wasn’t breathing, and consciously took a breath. He could feel no fear in Dex, only exultation in the challenge and a focussed intent on the combat. For all the fury of their battle, neither had taken any injury, but it seemed only a matter of time. He flinched as the razor-sharp blades sliced through the air scant inches from Jen’s skin.  
  
The fighters came apart. They circled one another, still watching each other, and then Jen leapt forward again, unleashing a series of attacks Jay suddenly realised were carefully planned. He was drawing Dex out to leave an opening. Jay could feel that Dex knew it, couldn’t stop it, and was delighted by it, even as Jen slid inside his guard and sent his sword clattering to the hall floor.  
  
As he did so Dex grabbed his leg, dragging him off balance. He almost had the advantage back, Jay saw, until Jen twisted in his grasp, falling to the floor but taking Dex’s legs out from under him. Dex hit the ground next to Jen, who rolled towards him and pressed the blade of his sword across Dex’s throat.  
  
The hall was silent as Dex slapped the floor twice.  
  
Jen nodded, lifted his sword, and jumped to his feet. He offered Dex a hand up, which he accepted.  
  
“Not bad,” Dex said, and turned to the watching soldiers. “All right. Show me what _you_ can do.”  
  
\--  
  
Jay went back to barracks that evening and collapsed limply face-down on his bunk. He was aching in muscles he hadn’t known he had, and he had a headache from straining his mind with new skills.  
  
He really wasn’t in the mood for a confrontation with Christopher, but he sensed one coming as Christopher’s dark, bitter presence impinged on his awareness.  
  
“Rough day with the grunts, Jay?” Christopher asked, standing over his bed. “I notice you’re just _too_ good to train with us today. What are you doing coming back here?”  
  
“Sleeping,” Jay replied, not moving.  
  
“The hell with that.” Christopher was _angry_. Jay was mystified as to why. “Dammit, Jay...” Christopher grabbed Jay’s outflung arm, skin to skin contact bringing his rage into blazing, painful contact with Jay’s mind.  
  
“Enough!” Ian yelled, coming from the other end of the barracks at a run. “Leave him alone, Christopher.”  
  
Christopher dropped his arm. “Not you too, Ian. Don’t you see what he’s doing? He’s becoming like them...”  
  
“He’s becoming a fighter, you bloody fool. That’s what we’re here for. Your mystifying hatred of Jen has no part in this. Leave him the fuck alone.”  
  
“Fine,” Christopher spat, and stormed away.  
  
“Thanks,” Jay mumbled into his pillow.  
  
“Don’t worry about it.” Ian patted his shoulder, radiating a soothing energy through the contact. “Get some sleep.”  
  
The atmosphere around the barracks was a lot less fraught in the weeks that followed, but Jay found he still felt much more at home with the soldiers and Jen. He trained with them and was thrilled by the feeling of improvement, and gradually he was able to draw Jen out to talk about more than just training-related subjects, if only a little.  
  
Besides - even if he knew he was learning in readiness to fight a war, the combat training was getting to be _fun_.

\--   
  
“Release!” Captain Waugh ordered. Jay let go of the soldier he’d been grappling and stepped back, wiping sweat off his face with his sleeve. “Ready? Begin again.”  
  
The soldier moved again, this time going low. Jay blocked and counterattacked, moving with a sure sense of what he should be doing that was new and unfamiliar, but somehow enjoyable. Some sense he couldn’t quite place seemed to be driving him, turning the things Jen had been showing him lately into a reflex, instead of a confusing set of new lessons to absorb.  
  
He hadn’t imagined fighting could be this much fun.  
  
Another flurry of blows and holds exchanged, and he’d won again. Captain Waugh called them off and announced a five-minute break. Jay went to the wall, where his water bottle was on the floor near where Jen was standing, watching the training.  
  
“Not bad,” Jen said. “You need to keep your elbows in, though, you’re giving openings. It makes too much of a target.”  
  
Jay nodded in acknowledgement as he took a long swallow of water.  
  
“I’ll take you on next,” Jen continued. “I can show you what I mean.”  
  
Jay suppressed a wince. Winning was fun, but against Jen, it was also depressingly unlikely.   
  
\--   
  
Jay was asleep when the rush of _pain fear loss rage hurting_ hit him. Sitting bolt upright, he realised with a shock that the feeling wasn’t his.   
  
Blurrily semiconscious, he tugged on some clothes and stumbled towards the door of the barracks.   
  
“Jay? Where are you going?” Ian asked, sitting up in his own bunk.   
  
“Jen,” he mumbled. “Needs me.”   
  
“You’re only wearing one boot,” the Welshman observed.   
  
Jay paused, blinking at him, then pulled off the boot and continued out into the compound. The sharp rocks that littered it were painful on his bare feet, but he ignored them as he half-ran towards the Auxiliary Corps building where Jen’s room was.   
  
Jen’s room was quiet but for the sound of his ragged breathing. With great trepidation, remembering that Academy rumour said the last person to go near Jen in his sleep had wound up in the infirmary, Jay dropped to his knees beside his bunk and hesitantly put his hand on Jen’s shoulder. “Jen? Jen, wake up. It’s just a nightmare, it’s okay...”   
  
Jen didn’t wake, and Jay could feel the turmoil rolling in waves off him. Murmuring nonsense syllables in soothing tones, Jay crawled onto the bunk beside him and wrapped first his arms, then his whole body around him, growing more confident as he felt Jen calm.   
  
As intent as he was on Jen’s emotions, he didn’t even notice himself slipping into sleep with him.


	3. Chapter 3

Jen was aware, on waking, of the warm pressure of a body against his. He remained very still, breathing evenly, as he tried to work out what this meant. Whoever it was had managed to get this close without waking him - to touching him, wrapped around him. As much as it unnerved him... this didn’t feel like a threat.   
  
He inhaled.   
  
It was Jay.   
  
Jay’s head on his shoulder, his too-long hair brushing Jen’s cheek. Jay’s arm across his stomach, Jay’s leg slung across his thighs, Jay’s breath warm on his neck.   
  
Possibly the worst part was how good it felt. He’d slept longer and deeper than he could remember ever having slept before.   
  
Liking the human puppy was one thing, letting him crawl into his bed was just unnerving. Why the hell hadn’t he woken up?   
  
He lifted Jay’s arm and carefully extricated himself from the tangle of Psion and covers. Alone in the bed, Jay rolled into the warm gap and curled up on himself, breathing evening out.   
  
Jen breathed out in relief and then grabbed a fresh uniform and stepped into the bathroom. He showered and dressed as quickly as possible and then stepped back into the room. Jay was still sleeping, now stretched across as much of the bed as he could manage.   
  
He strapped on his weapons, pulled on his boots, and then left the room, making sure to slam the door behind him.  
  
\--   
  
“Concentrate.” Major Anderson glared at the row of Psion cadets, then touched a button on her desk. A discordant, erratic, distinctly annoying sound filled the room, punctuated with intermitted crashes that were almost painfully loud. “You must be able to maintain your composure in adverse circumstances. You have thirty seconds, which I assure you is more than the enemy will ever allow, and then we will begin.”   
  
Jay closed his eyes. Shielding was easy - he’d done it any number of times. It was almost comfortable, armouring himself against the world and feeling the rhythms of other people’s thoughts wash over him instead of through him.   
  
The next part was harder.   
  
He tightened the shields, imagined sealing himself away, concentrated on blanking his thoughts as much as he could, on hiding that he was there at all.   
  
Major Anderson flicked his ear, hard. “Ow!” he exclaimed, the careful barriers he’d constructed dissolving.   
  
“Concentration, cadet, no matter what.” Her voice held no censure. “Begin again.”   
  
Jay blew out a breath and started over, ignoring the lingering sting and the sounds of the Major disrupting the concentration of the others. He had it together faster, and this time managed to hold the delicate balance together with barely a flicker as she tugged at his collar and slid a cupful of crushed ice down his back.   
  
“Much better,” he heard, as if from far away, and allowed himself a tightly-shielded satisfaction as that, too, didn’t make him slip.   
  
Then the Major returned to her own chair. He felt her mind, brushing over the edges of his shields, followed almost immediately by a blow of telepathic force that almost broke his composure. It slammed against his shields with real power, then hit again. Jay held tight as she probed at him, striking in different ways, harder and sharper.   
  
Finally she relented, and the room was suddenly silent. “Exercise complete,” the major called loudly. “Jay, see me in my office after lunch.”   
  
Gradually, warily, Jay relaxed his shields. “Yes, ma’am.”   
  
He realised he was drenched with sweat and melted ice, and noticed, with concern, that most of the others in the class looked like the exercise had barely been an effort. He wondered how far behind the others he really was - keeping his composure through her onslaught had been more difficult than any of the physical combat he’d undertaken with the soldiers.   
  
He was tired and morose as he showered, and took only one plateful of lunch when he got to the mess hall. Jen was already there. He frowned as Jay sat down across from him and began eating in silence.   
  
After several minutes, Jen spoke. “Problem?” he asked.   
  
Jay blinked. Jen _never_ spoke first. It seemed to have caused some consternation for Jen, who was eating faster than usual now, eyes fixed on his plate.   
  
“I think I screwed up this morning,” he finally answered. “I had a class with Major Anderson. It really kicked my ass, and she told me to see her after lunch.” He sighed. “I did my best, but I think it wasn’t good enough.”   
  
“Hm.” Jen considered this for some time. “You’re wrong.”   
  
“What?”   
  
Jen looked acutely uncomfortable. “Major Anderson doesn’t screw around. If she was pissed, she’d have chewed your ass out before she let you go. You did okay, or you’d know.”   
  
“Oh.” As Jay thought about that, Jen left the table, leaving his half-eaten lunch behind. Jay didn’t really pay attention, instead mulling over Jen’s words. He knew Jen would be back - Jen never brought more food to the table than he intended to eat.   
  
Jen wouldn’t have said that unless he was sure of it, and sincere. Jen didn’t say anything he didn’t mean, ever. Deciding he was reassured, Jay attacked his lunch with a renewed appetite. He would have to go back for seconds - he’d worked hard that morning, and he was _hungry_.   
  
With a soft thump, Jen dropped another tray of food next to him before resuming his seat. Other than the pile of vegetables Jen kept making him eat, all his favourites were there, as well as an extra dessert. Jay smiled as he looked up at Jen, who quirked an eyebrow at him.   
  
“Thanks, man. I think I’m hungry after all.”   
  
\--   
  
Reassured by Jen’s confidence, Jay approached Major Anderson’s office in good spirits. Her door was half open, and he could see her standing pensively by the window, looking fragile and terribly, terribly small. He was struck by a terrible, aching grief, a sorrow and loss beyond his understanding.   
  
Then she turned, her shields locking tight again, and the feeling was gone.   
  
“Cadet,” she greeted him. “Take a seat.” She watched as he obeyed, then nodded, as if to herself. “This morning’s exercise was something of a test, and you passed,” she began. “I know you noticed that your classmates seemed to have had a less difficult time of it than you did. That’s because I didn’t hit them a tenth as hard or as often as I hit you.” She gave him a tight smile. “You withstood my best attacks, cadet. Barely, but you still did it. I’m impressed, and I’m passing you for Advanced Psionics training. You don’t need the basic classes. Here is your new class schedule.”   
  
Surprised, Jay took the slip of paper she held towards him.   
  
“I... thank you, Major.”   
  
She nodded. “Dismissed, cadet.”   
  
\--   
  
That night, Jay found himself up much later than usual, sitting against the wall outside the barracks talking quietly with Gwen and Ian. He was tired, but enjoying the lazy conversation and the sodas Gwen had wheedled from the kitchen staff.   
  
So this time, he was wide awake when the wave of Jen’s nightmare rolled over him.   
  
Gwen broke off mid-sentence. “Jay, you’re white as a sheet,” she said, grabbing his arm. “Are you -”   
  
Ian waved her off. “Jen?” he asked, looking at Jay intently.   
  
Jay nodded, not quite trusting himself to speak. Ian nodded and took his drink from his hand. “Off you go then,” he said gently.   
  
“I... yeah.” There was white noise around the edges of his vision. He needed to be with Jen.   
  
\--   
  
Waking up with Jay a second time came as less of a shock. The Psion had once again managed to catch him up like a tangle-net while he was asleep, and Jen really wanted to know how it was happening, because his reflexes were better than that, dammit - and then he realised that he could - not _feel_ , exactly, but - could tell, _knew_ , that Jay was sleeping (soundly), and that his ankle, when he woke, would be hurting a little (not serious) and thumped his head on the pillow in frustration. Oh, he knew what was happening, couldn’t deny it now. Jay had wormed his way into his space, sitting with him, training with him, and now it seemed that he’d wormed his way into his brain as well. He was _bonding_ to Jay, and Jen didn’t know which he disliked more, that someone was going to be able to see inside his head, or that Jay would have to put up with someone as messed up as him.   
  
Jen squeezed his eyes closed, swore softly under his breath, then inched his way out from under Jay’s encircling arms and escaped to the bathroom. He felt better this morning, at least, was aware that his sleep had been more restful than normal. He stepped out of the shower, towelling down and pulling on his uniform, then moved back into his room, sure in the knowledge that Jay was still asleep. He stamped into his boots and shrugged into his weapons harness and stopped halfway to the door. The way Jay was sleeping now, he wouldn’t wake up for another few hours, by which time he would have missed breakfast _and_ class, and then Major Anderson would kick his ass. And it was sort of a little bit Jen’s fault that Jay was here, although if Jay had minded his own business from the beginning then -   
  
Jen shook his head. That wasn’t fair to either of them, and he’d better wake Jay up before the mess closed, or he’d probably die of hunger or something.   
  
He moved back to the bed, bending down and shaking Jay’s shoulder with calculated force. “Jay.”   
  
“Ah!” Jay jerked awake in a tangle of flailing limbs, hair splayed about his face. “Wha- Jen-”   
  
“Mess closes pretty soon,” Jen said. “Might want to hurry.”   
  
Jay looked at his watch, swore, and fought his way out of the sheets. Jen suppressed a smile, crossing to the door, and held it open as Jay, finally winning his battle and his boots in hand, ducked under his arm and shot off down the corridor, occasionally hopping on his good leg as his ankle twinged.   
  
“Shit,” Jen muttered to himself, letting the door close, and headed off to the mess.  
  
\--   
  
Jay paused with his hand on the doorknob and took a deep breath before opening it.  
  
Jen was sitting cross-legged on his bed, guns and swords laid out neatly in front of him. He was holding his usual right-hand sword across his knees, an oiled whetstone in his hand. He raised an eyebrow as he looked at Jay, standing in his doorway holding a small bag in one hand.  
  
Clearing his throat, Jay stepped inside and closed the door gently. “I’m sick of coming over here in the middle of the goddamn night,” he said. “I brought my toothbrush and clothes.”  
  
Jen blinked at him. “Jay...” He wasn’t opposed to this, Jay could tell, but he was unsure what to say.  
  
After tossing his bag onto the table, Jay pulled out Jen’s desk chair and straddled it, folding his arms across the chair’s back. “We really should talk about this, you know.”  
  
“About what?” Jen asked unconvincingly.  
  
Jay exhaled. “We’ve bonded, man. I can feel your thoughts, and I know you can feel this too.”  
  
There was a long silence. Jay waited patiently. He knew better than to rush Jen at a time like this.  
  
“Yeah. I can,” Jen finally said. “But I don’t... I don’t really know what to do from here.”  
  
Jay cracked a smile. “Whatever we want to. Whatever works.”  
  
Jen looked at his sword. “Okay.” He began smoothing the whetstone over the edge again. “But stop taking all the damn blankets.”  
  
“Asshole.” Jay grinned.  
  
“Bitch,” Jen replied, without looking up.   
  
\--  
  
As soon as class ended, Jay hurried to catch Major Anderson before she left. “Could I speak to you in private, Major?” he asked nervously.  
  
“Of course, cadet. Come to my office in fifteen minutes.”  
  
He duly presented fifteen minutes later at her door. The major beckoned him in with a tight smile, and told him to have a seat.  
  
“So what’s this about?” she asked.  
  
Jay cleared his throat. “Ma’am, I’ve...” He paused, suddenly dreading the words he was about to say to the Psion who had survived the loss of her Guardian.  
  
“Spit it out, cadet.”  
  
He took a breath. “I’ve bonded.”  
  
Her face became impassive. “To whom?”  
  
“Jen.”  
  
One eyebrow raised slightly. “Jen? Jen Ackles?”  
  
“Yes ma’am.”  
  
“I see.” She regarded him silently. He felt her sudden desire to ask a question, and felt her quell it. He wondered what that was about.  
  
“It just sort of happened...” he began, but she waved him to silence.  
  
“No, that’s quite excellent news, cadet. I’ll have your class schedule adjusted for Field Pair preparation courses within a day or two. Was that all?”  
  
“Yes, Major.”  
  
“Dismissed, then.”  
  
\--   
  
Jen stopped as he approached the door to his quarters. There were slight scuffmarks around the door, and he could feel Jay’s presence inside.   
  
He’d felt Jay moving through the day, felt him in this building, but he’d been trying to ignore the awareness and what it meant.   
  
Jay was fine - he was tired, aching like he’d been working hard that day, but nothing to worry about.   
  
Warily, Jen opened the door to _his own damn room_ and looked inside.   
  
It had changed. His own bunk was pushed against the wall, under his rack of weapons. A double-sized bunk was in its place, with a duffel bag on it, a crate on the floor near the door, and Jay, hanging his own clothes in Jen’s wardrobe.   
  
“Jay, what the fuck -” he began, but didn’t know how to continue. Jay smiled at him.   
  
“I got us assigned shared quarters. I requested a second bed in here, they gave us this and that box. It works out. Now I don’t have to keep bringing my stuff over.”  
  
Jen stared at him for several seconds, then crouched and opened the crate. Jay came to look over his shoulder. Jen heard him choke slightly as he saw what it contained.   
  
Boxes of condoms. In, he noticed, assorted varieties, and some in different flavours. Eight different kinds of sexual lubricant, all in ample quantities.   
  
“Jen, I swear I didn’t -” Jay began. Jen waved him off.   
  
“Didn’t you read up on Corps policy on sex involving Psions?” he asked dryly.   
  
“Uh, no, I didn’t think of it.” He was actually _blushing_. Jen knew Jay could feel his amusement, even if it wouldn’t show on his face.   
  
“Don’t ask.”   
  
“But, Jen, they - I mean, now I have to -”   
  
“No, that’s the policy. Don’t ask. They don’t want to know. This is just, you know, in case we might want it. For whatever reason.” He shrugged. “Just forget about it, man.” He kicked the crate under the bed.   
  
Jay living with him. In his space, in his quarters... in his life, not just his unit.   
  
He sighed inwardly. This was all going to go wrong, he knew it... but he couldn’t find it in him to protest, beguiled by the memory of waking, warm, rested and safe.   
  
\--   
  
“Uh, mind if we join you?” Daria asked tentatively. Some of the other cadets were ranged behind her, glancing nervously between Jen and Jay.  
  
“Sure!” Jay replied cheerfully. The others joined them at the table, in a slightly awkward silence. Jay could feel Jen’s surprise and silent amusement.  
  
“So,” Gwen said, breaking the silence. “I hear a new Field Pair are coming to the Academy today. They’re just in from the field on a training rotation.”  
  
“That should be interesting,” Ian said thoughtfully. He glanced at Jay. “What everyone is trying not to say, by the way, is that there is a rumour that you gentlemen are being assigned to Field Pair training. They are deeply and passionately curious to know whether this is true.”  
  
Several of the other cadets looked stricken. Ian smiled faintly. Jen continued eating his breakfast, betraying no reaction, but Jay could feel his amusement; even without the bond between them, he could have picked up that Jen was now concentrating on maintaining his poise by the way he was cutting his toast into pieces of precisely the same size.  
  
“It’s true,” Jay said calmly.  
  
Ian nodded, then his smile became broader, and distinctly wicked. “Jay, I have a small reserve of quality chocolate hidden in a secure location. It’s yours if you’ll let me be the one to tell Christopher.”   
  
\--  
  
Field Pair training was surprisingly enjoyable, especially once Jay got the knack of extending his shields and his combat awareness to include Jen as well. He found it was fun, working with Jen, learning to act and move together. Combat training was the best - the other Pairs never stood a chance against Jen’s devastatingly precise assaults combined with Jay’s expanding knowledge and control over his own abilities.  
  
The rush of strength and power felt almost as good as the growing sense of unity between him and Jen. Now that almost all their training was together, they were rarely apart, but it had come to seem natural, even comfortable.  
  
They had several weeks in the new routine before the instructors, with little warning, ran all of the cadets at the Academy through a gruelling three days of testing, pushing them each to the limits of their training and abilities. Afterwards, listings were posted - transfers to the forward bases for the cadets and Pairs who had been the strongest.  
  
Jen and Jay were going to Texas.  
  
\--  
  
 _Hey Momma,_  
  
 _Something awesome has happened. You remember the Guardian I was training with, Jen? I don’t really know how it happened but we’ve bonded. We’re going to start learning to work together as a proper Psion-Guardian pair for fieldwork. Jen’s a good guy, and I think you’d like him. He’s the best Guardian on base - you should see some of the moves he can pull, it’s amazing. It’s nice not to feel alone._  
  
 _We’re being sent to the Texas Forward Complex tomorrow. We got tested on combat readiness last week and a bunch of us came up good, so yeah, we’re shipping out to the front. We’ll still be doing more training when we get there, but it’ll be a lot more focused so this might be my last chance to write for a while._  
  
 _Give my love to everyone._  
  
 _-Jay_  
  
\--  
  
The train didn’t run as far as the forward bases. Instead, Sergeant Dex came with a squad to escort them past the point where the good roads ended.   
  
They dismounted from the coaches that had brought them this far, loaded their belongings onto the pack horses he had brought, and marched.   
  
As they moved towards the base, Jay became aware that the sky looked strange, wrong. He was used to the shield overhead that marked the security of the Protected Zone - a rainbow glitter in the air overhead, sparking brighter if there was rain, or snow, or an enemy attack. It was the roof of the world. But here, the colours were stronger, more obtrusive, and he could see it starting to slope towards the ground.   
  
He shivered. They were coming to the edge of the Protected Zone, the edge of the safety his childhood in the far north had let him take for granted until Jeff’s death.   
  
Almost directly ahead, the shield flared, leaving ghost-images in his vision as the light faded.   
  
“Artillery barrage,” Dex said, sounding almost cheerful. “There’s a forward gun position pretty close at the moment, but we should have it taken out soon. A Field Pair have gone out to deal with it.”   
  
Jay felt a flicker of emotion from Jen - concern, and a peculiar irritation. “Who went?” Jen asked.   
  
“Frederick and Takeshi.” Dex replied. “They came back three days ago.”   
  
There was no mistaking it - that almost shocked Jen. But his expression didn’t flicker, and his tone was mild as he spoke. “I’m thinking Frederick wasn’t happy they got an artillery placement in range of the shield.”   
  
Dex rubbed his jaw. “You could say that.” He grinned. “He was swearing in at least six languages that I _recognised_. They got their shit together and headed back out. Frederick said they’d fix it on their way out. If he ever finds out just who fucked up enough to let that happen he’s probably going to beat hell out of them in the training room.”   
  
“Mm.” Jen looked at the shield as a fresh scatter of shells lit the sky. “I’ll give him a hand.”   
  
\--   
The shield, close to, was a faint shimmer in the air. Some distance away, on either side of the base complex they were approaching, Jay could see the shield pylons. Pylons were a part of the landscape he was used to, but these were different - much bigger than the ones well inside the Zone, more heavily armoured, and scarred with signs of past assaults, damage, and repairs.   
  
Directly ahead was Texas Forward Complex. The shield that marked the Protected Zone met with the back edges of another shield, a separate bubble that enclosed the fortified buildings of the base. Past the hazy shimmer of the shields, Jay could see people, moving with purpose, but he was distracted by the sense of Jen’s anticipation. Jen was _relieved_ to be back here. It was...   
  
... not home. Jay thought about the emotion Jen was giving off. This wasn’t home - there wasn’t anything Jen really thought of as home. But he was more comfortable here than at the Academy, more accustomed to combat deployment than training duties.   
  
Stark as it was, this was what Jen thought of as his life.   
  
The broken track they were following led up to the innermost point of the shield that surrounded the base, inside the main shielding at the edge of the Protected Zone. There was a different design of pylon here. A normal pylon was a column, surrounded by the armour and reinforcement that sloped down around it. This one was constructed like a ring standing on edge.   
  
Jay had heard of a shield iris, but he’d never seen one before. He watched, fascinated, as Dex tapped a code into the control panel, then pressed his palm to the biometric scanner. It glowed green as it identified him as human, and the shimmer of the shield within the ring became a bright, rippling blue.   
  
Dex stepped through easily. With some trepidation, Jay followed.   
  
The sound of an explosion startled him as he emerged.   
  
“What the hell was that?” he heard Christopher exclaim.   
  
Dex chuckled low in his throat. “The artillery, I expect.”   
  
The last flares of shellfire died on the shields, and there was no more.   
  
Jen made a dismissive noise. “Took them long enough.”   
  
\--   
  
Jen had, it seemed, accepted the idea of Jay moving in with him. They hadn’t yet talked about the bond and what it meant - or the lifetime of partnership it implied - but Jay wasn’t sure he was any more ready than Jen for that, and Jen clearly wasn’t ready to talk about it at all.  
  
Jay couldn’t have said what he’d expected Jen’s quarters to be like, but this wasn’t it.    
  
They were neat. Jay was used to that - Jen kept his belongings ordered, and could lay his hands on whatever he wanted immediately, always. But the room at the Academy had been bare, almost unlived-in. This room was, he realised, Jen’s _own_ room.   
  
Most of one wall was dominated by a rack of weapons - guns of various sizes, swords, knives, some things Jay didn’t even recognise, all well-cared for, some clearly well-worn. Next to it, a storage unit held an array of body armour, in several different camouflage patterns. The room smelled of gun oil and, indefinably, of Jen. And Jen was more comfortable here, Jay could feel it, could feel the sense of ease as Jen moved to his shelves and closet, moving his clothes to make room for Jay’s. He noticed Jen had no civilian clothes. Everything was in Psionic Corps colours, or camouflage; uniforms and training sweats, nothing else.   
  
The only thing in the room which he couldn’t see as functional was a small object placed in the exact centre of an otherwise empty shelf near the bed. Jay bent to examine it. It looked like a damaged silver chain, with a small, smoky stone attached to it.   
  
He felt a wrenching sense of anger and loss, not his own, and looked over at Jen, who had stopped his work to watch him, his expression carefully blank.   
  
Jay straightened, and didn’t ask. “So, can we get a bigger bed than this?” He gestured at the narrow, single-person bunk. “That gets a little crowded.” Jen’s relief washed over him.   
  
“A new bed should be brought up soon, if Isaacs is doing his job.”   
  
“Was that that lieutenant with the residential assignments?”   
  
“Yeah.” Jen tossed the last pair of socks into a drawer. “Go ahead and unpack. There should be enough room for you here.”   
  
“Thanks, man.” Jay smiled and opened his duffel bag. Maybe it could be just as simple as that. Jen was okay with this - that was enough.   
  
\--   
  
The rest of the incoming recruits came in a few hours later. This close to the battle zone it wasn’t safe to travel in large groups, so they didn’t if they could avoid it. Major Anderson had come with them. When Jen and Jay joined the group, she was talking to a blonde woman Jay didn’t recognise.   
  
Jay felt a surge of anticipation from Jen. It was followed by a slight nudge. He looked at Jen, who raised an eyebrow at him and shifted to a parade rest position. Following his cue, Jay stood straighter, mimicking the pose, and didn’t jump when a voice from behind the group called out sharply.   
  
“Welcome!”   
  
Turning his head, Jay saw a dark-haired man, in a crisp uniform that bore the markings of a General in the Psionic Corps. He couldn’t sense the man at all - he was, clearly, a Guardian talent. He’d shocked the rest of the Psions, though his glance towards Jen and Jay seemed approving. Jay suppressed a smile at Jen’s handling of the situation.   
  
The man surveyed them, as Major Anderson and the woman she’d been talking to moved to stand on either side of him. “I am General Nathan Pasdar,” he said. “This is Captain Duvall. If you’re assigned to the generator crews, you’ll be reporting to her. Major Anderson, here, is going to be training those of you who are slated for field duty. When you complete training you’ll be reporting to Colonel Morgan. You all report to me, but if you’re very lucky, you won’t be seeing me often.” He smiled humourlessly. “Welcome to Texas Forward Complex. You’re dismissed.”   
  
\--   
  
“All right,” Major Anderson began. “I know some of you have been bonded for a long time.” She directed a glare at a Psion Jay didn’t know, who opened his mouth as if to speak. “And that some of you have been in the field for months or years. Complacency is as dangerous as inexperience, or more so.” She flicked her eyes across the group. “Put on your blindfolds.”   
  
Jay bound the cloth across his eyes obediently and extended his other senses. He was wary - he knew there were Guardians in this room, the kind he couldn’t sense, so while he could feel people around him... he was missing some.   
  
He focussed on Jen. That was the exercise - to complete a combat simulation in which the Psions would have to rely on their partners, and work with them, protect them, without watching them.   
  
There. Jen, standing near him, poised, patient, ready, and enviably calm. Jay felt him moving closer, and the warmth as Jen pressed a palm between his shoulderblades. “We can handle anything they’re going to throw at us,” Jen whispered. “Move with me. Shape shields like we’ve practiced. I won’t let them touch you.”   
  
Jay took a deep breath and nodded, bringing up shields around them both.   
  
“Jen. Jay. Why don’t you go first?” Major Anderson called out.   
  
“Yes ma’am,” Jen drawled. He moved forward. Jay could feel the onlookers parting to let them through, both in the movement of the minds he could sense and a kinaesthetic echo from Jen’s senses. Blind, he was forced to follow Jen through the link between their minds. The surety in his movements, the confidence in his strength - it was heady, and almost distracting in itself.   
  
Then the Auxiliary Corps soldiers who were taking the place of the real enemy for the exercise attacked, and he was quickly absorbed in the battle itself - the feel of Jen’s mind as he fought with a tight intensity, the flow of movement and power, the focussed concentration he needed to shape the shields around them both, following the flow of Jen’s movements, moving with him. He could feel Jen intercepting the soldiers who angled towards him, feel the blows that glanced off his shield barriers.   
  
It was exhilarating.   
  
He almost yelped as Major Anderson’s whistle blew, piercing the air and shockingly out of place.   
  
“Very good,” the Major said. “You work well together. Go to the back, pay attention to how everyone else does it too, especially the teams more experienced than you are.” Her voice was dry. “This afternoon’s exercise will be more challenging.”   
  
\--

  
At lunch, the group who had been training were mostly tired. Some had fared badly in their combat efforts.   
  
“What’s the deal with Major Anderson, anyway?” Greg complained. “She’s such hardass. And it’s like she doesn’t even know _how_ to smile.” He paused. “There’s a lot of that going around.” He glanced pointedly at Jen. Jay glared at him as Daria nudged him hard.   
  
“Perhaps you should pay more attention to local history before you shoot your stupid mouth off,” Christopher said acidly. “Major Anderson is a better, stronger person than you’ll ever be.”   
  
“How do you figure?” Greg sneered. “She never even leaves the shield -”   
  
“Shut your mouth,” Jen said, in a low, intense tone. Jay blinked - he could feel both Jen’s rage and Christopher’s, burning bright around him.   
  
“But -” Greg started to object, and then fell silent as Jen put his hands on the table and began to rise.   
  
“Major Anderson used to have a Guardian,” Christopher hissed. “She had a Guardian, and he _died_ , and she was strong enough to go on living. She’s the only Psion who’s ever survived the death of a bonded companion and _you will be respectful_.”   
  
Greg looked stricken. “I didn’t know.”   
  
Both Christopher and Jen settled back in their seats. “Now you do,” Christopher said.   
  
Greg started to speak again, but Daria caught his eye and shook her head. “Drop it,” she murmured.   
  
Just then, an officer Jay didn’t recognise stepped up to the table. “Christopher,” he said curtly. “Report to General Pasdar immediately.”   
  
Christopher blinked. “Yes sir.” He left the table. The officer followed him out of the mess hall.   
  
“I wonder what that’s about?” Daria said.   
  
“Assignment, probably,” Gwen replied. “He has scouting talents they probably need for something.”   
  
\--   
  
The afternoon’s exercise was brutal. Blindfolded again, Jay contended now with Major Anderson battering him with psionic assaults while they fought the soldiers. By the time their turn was over, Jay was shaking and had a headache that was making him feel somewhat queasy. Jen handed him a bottle of water as they took their seats at the edge of the hall. “You did well,” he murmured. “We can work on your stamina.”   
  
“Yeah?” Jay winced as he heard his voice crack.   
  
“Yeah. Hardly anyone can stand up to Major Anderson that long.” Jen squeezed his shoulder. “Now drink, bitch. If you pass out I’m not carrying your ass back to our room.”   
  
Jay snorted at that, but drank.   
  
They watched Gwen and Ian take on the challenge next. The Welsh duo moved and worked well together. Impressively so. Jay wondered about it - he knew they’d been visiting when the routes between North America and the rest of the world were cut off, but neither of them ever seemed willing to talk about it. Had they fought before?   
  
\--   
  
“You look like you’ve been through the wringer,” said a voice from behind him. Jay looked around. An older woman stood holding a tray and looking at him. Her voice was rough, but warm, and the energy he sensed from her was sympathetic. He’d met her not long after they arrived - she was a generator Psion, part of the group that produced and maintained the shields. Jen approved of her, though the feeling was non-specific.   
  
“Ellen, right?” He half-stood, and gestured for her to join them.   
  
“Yeah.” She crooked a smile at him and sat down. “Training with Anderson, right?”   
  
“Right.”   
  
“She asked me to keep an eye on the exercises. You’ve got a lot of power and a lot of talent, but...” She cleared her throat. “What I’m saying is, your shielding technique isn’t that good. If you like, we can put some time in, and work on that.”   
  
Jay looked at Jen, who nodded minutely. “I’d like that,” Jay said.   
  
After they ate, Ellen insisted they go to an empty training room and do some work. Jay protested, but found Jen unexpectedly supporting her.   
  
“Seriously, man,” Jen said. “When we’re out in the field, we’re gonna have to fight when you’re tired. It’s the best time to learn. When you’re rested you’ll be better, but you have to be able to do this when you’re not.” He clapped Jay on the shoulder. “You can sleep when the war’s over.”   
  
Ellen grinned. “Okay, ready?”   
  
Jay gathered his shields. “I think so, bu-” He stopped as the impact slammed into him. “ _Damn_.”   
  
“See, there’s your problem, kid,” Ellen was saying. Her voice sounded distant, and then, with barely a flicker of expression, she struck at his shields again. “Don’t just take the hit, redirect it. Let it go past you. You’re a wall. Bend with it, let it bounce away. Here, hit me.”   
  
Tentatively, he did so. He knew where she was, which should have made it easy, and yet it didn’t - her mind slipped away from his perception, and the blow he sent at her seemed to skid past rather than hitting her. He tried again. Ellen’s mind, previously a warm, solid presence nearby, was elusive, sliding away even as he tried to lock on again.   
  
“That’s amazing,” he said aloud. Ellen chuckled.   
  
“Practice, kid. But I can teach you.”   
  
“He can learn,” Jen said. Jay felt his confidence, and smiled.   
  
\--   
  
It was hours later, and he was heady with exhaustion, running on adrenaline. He knew it, but he was reluctant to sleep. Finally, Jay felt, he had the knack of the techniques Ellen had been trying to impart. She had gone to duty with her generator crew, Jen had been called away to run a training exercise with some of the soldiers from the Auxiliary Corps. Jay had stayed alone in the darkened training room, shaping elegant lines of power in the air around him.   
  
It was strangely beautiful.   
  
He could feel the air shift as the door opened, could feel the vibrations of Jen’s footsteps as he entered the room.   
  
“Time to take a break,” Jen said, approaching slowly. “Get some sleep, man, you’re exhausted.”   
  
“But I can still do this,” Jay replied, extending his shields to wrap around Jen’s body. “Someone could shoot at you and it wouldn’t touch you.”   
  
“Great. But nobody’s shooting at me.” Jen paused, then reached out and put his hand on Jay’s shoulder. “Come on, Jay. You gotta control this, it can’t control you.” He brushed his thumb over Jay’s collar, rubbing lightly at the skin. A shudder ran through Jay’s body as the contact made the bond between them blaze against his heightened awareness. He was suddenly conscious that Jen was tired, and worried.   
  
He swayed as his own exhaustion struck him. “Damn,” he muttered.   
  
“It happens,” Jen answered softly. “C’mon. Bed.”   
  
“I thought I could sleep when the war was over.”   
  
“It’s over for tonight.” Jen stayed close to him as they made their way back to their quarters, and showered with brisk efficiency even as Jay stripped off clothes that were stiff with dried sweat. When Jay emerged from his own shower Jen was already in bed, sitting up watching the bathroom door. He settled back as Jay climbed into bed.   
  
“Jen...”   
  
“Sleep.”   
  
“But...”   
  
“ _Sleep_.”   
  
“Fine.”   
  
\--   
  
Two days passed without incident before Jay woke in the night with a shock of inexplicable terror. Something was wrong, deeply, horrifically wrong.   
  
But he wasn’t sure what.   
  
“ _Jay_!” Jen’s voice through the fog. Jen’s hands, hard on his shoulders, chest against his, pressing him into the bed. Jay realised he’d been struggling, trying to run, and Jen had been calling his name.   
  
He stilled, breathed for a moment, before he answered. “I’m okay,” he managed.   
  
“What the _fuck_ , Jay.” He could sense that Jen was worried as hell but didn’t know what to kill.   
  
“I don’t know.” There was nothing to say what was causing the feeling. The room was quiet but for their breathing - he could hear artillery in the distance, but it wasn’t close enough to be a concern. The base was quiet too, but - “Huh.”   
  
“What?”   
  
“I’m not the only one. Half the Psions on the base are awake and we’re all feeling it.”   
  
“Does anyone know what the hell is going on?”   
  
Jay reached out, making fleeting contact with the others, trading the sense of uncertainty with familiar minds. “No.”   
  
“Okay.” Jen let off the pressure holding him down, hesitated, and then settled himself again close to Jay, the contact warm and solidly reassuring along the length of his body. “There’s nothing we can do and the team on duty can handle it,” he said quietly. “Try to sleep.”   
  
\--   
  
The next day was tense. A fog of worry and tension had every Psion on the base edgy. Training that day was uncomfortable, and Jay was relieved when he and Jen were released from the last of their classes.  
  
They’d just returned to their quarters after dinner when a runner came with a message for Jen to report to General Pasdar.  
  
“Wait, what?” Jay frowned. “What could that be about? Are you in trouble?”   
  
“Relax, man, I haven’t done anything,” Jen replied. “I’ll go see what it’s about, you chill.” He left the room briskly.   
  
Jay sat on the bed, following Jen’s mind with his. Jen was tense, but not worried - he was anticipating something, not necessarily good.   
  
He felt him moving to the General’s office, and then, not long after, a flare of anger and concern before a sense of purpose settled over Jen’s mind. Not long after that, Jen came back to their room.   
  
“So what is it?” Jay asked.   
  
“Christopher’s been captured. Something strange is happening to him. I’m going out to pick him up.”   
  
Jay tried to keep the alarm he felt from showing on his face. “When?”   
  
“In the morning.”   
  
\--   
  
Jen woke to the sound of rain and the warmth of Jay’s breath on his neck. In their sleep they always found each other, even though they rarely touched while they were still awake. Jay’s head was pillowed on his shoulder, his arm wrapped around Jen’s waist. He sometimes felt like he should resist this, but it was warm and comfortable and hard to pull away.   
  
Sleep tugged at him. He wanted desperately to let himself slip back into the gentle rest to which he was becoming accustomed, but the dim grey light that filtered through the rain outside his window told him it was almost dawn.   
  
Time to move.   
  
He shifted carefully, hoping he could disentangle himself from Jay’s embrace without waking him, but Jay’s arms tightened convulsively as soon as he moved and then Jay lifted his head, blinking sleepily at Jen.   
  
“Still dark,” Jay muttered. “Sleep. Stop moving.”   
  
“Sorry, man,” Jen answered. “I gotta get up. You can stay, though.”   
  
“Like hell,” Jay grimaced, rolling away and sitting up. “I do that and you, you do that thing, with the breakfast, and the not having it, and... no.”   
  
“You’re so articulate when you wake up, Jay. It’s no wonder you’re such a prodigy of the Psionic Corps,” Jen said, deadpan.   
  
Jay threw a pillow at him.   
  
\--   
  
Jay watched Jen leave the base from the window of the training hall. His distraction was observed by the instructor, Major Anderson. She had to call him three times before he answered.   
  
“Sorry, Major,” he said, sincerely. Major Anderson was someone no-one ever wanted to upset - sad-eyed and wistful, the edges of her tightly-shielded pain would bleed into other Psions’ awareness when her control slipped, reminding them all of the agony they risked, and dreaded.  
  
“What’s so interesting, cadet?” she asked softly.   
  
No-one ever lied to her, either. “Jen is on his way out to retrieve Christopher,” he said. “I saw him leaving base.”   
  
She looked at him for a long moment, then simply nodded. “Try to concentrate, cadet.”   
  
“Yes, ma’am.”   
  
\--   
  
By noon Jen was well outside the shields, riding a trail bike across the broken terrain. The electric motor was quiet, but the bike’s wheels across the rocks made more noise and left more tracks than Jen would, though the light rain that still fell would obliterate them soon. At the edge of the half-safe territory their forces currently dominated, he stashed the bike in a cave he knew well and continued on foot.   
  
He moved quickly, but cautiously. Twice he dropped into cover to wait out passing enemy patrols. He knew he was safe enough - he was leaving no tracks, and if he stayed silent, and stayed careful, they’d never find him. He spotted at least one Psion in the enemy ranks, but he knew they couldn’t find him - it was why he had been the one sent. No Psion could ever touch his mind - except Jay.   
  
Through the long afternoon and into the night, he had far too much time to think about that.   
  
A lot of what he did was somewhere between a habit and a reflex. He ghosted through the gathering dusk, crossing a semicircle around his objective, laying false trails. One, if followed, would take pursuers to a blind gully where one sound out of place could trigger a rockfall. Another would emerge under heavy bombardment, if he timed it right.   
  
The rain had stopped. There was no starlight, and the wasteland was lit only by the flickering red glow of the artillery, reflected off the clouds. Jen tucked himself into the chill, damp shelter beneath the edge of a slab of broken rock to rest.   
  
\--   
  
Jen exhaled, staring at the damp rock inches from his face, carefully controlling his frustration to ensure he made no sound. He had a couple of hours to kill before he thought it would be safe to make a move. It would likely be his only chance to sleep tonight. He’d done this any number of times, but this time, unlike all the times before, he just couldn’t sleep. The ground was cold and hard, and Jay wasn’t with him.   
  
Putting it into words, if only in his thoughts, didn’t make him feel any better about it. He was starting to think he was going soft. It wasn’t that he didn’t know how damn much he needed to be out here - the Psions at base reported that something strange was starting to happen to Christopher’s mind, and the guy was an asshole but he was one of theirs, and everyone knew that nobody had a better shot at getting him out than Jen would.   
  
But for the first time he could remember, he wanted to be somewhere else. Damned if he didn’t want to be back in his quarters, door locked, with a warm bed and someone next to him who...   
  
Hell. Someone next to him who made the nightmares go away. He was getting used to sleeping through the night, but it was more than that. With Jay around, he felt... okay. Like the ragged edges of him were smoother, weren’t tearing him up inside any more.   
  
This was going to end badly, he was sure of it.   
  
\--   
  
Jay punched his pillow and settled himself back in bed, trying not to think about the empty space next to him where Jen should be. He’d tried working out till his muscles quivered, and now he’d been trying to sleep for over an hour, and he still couldn’t get his mind off wondering where Jen was, and how he was doing.   
  
He didn’t think Jen could be dead. He was pretty sure he’d feel it - from what he knew, Psions who’d lost a bonded Guardian were pretty thoroughly wrecked for what little remained of their lives. It wasn’t a prospect he really wanted to dwell on.   
  
But he didn’t know where Jen was, or if he was hurt, and he didn’t dare try and find him with his mind. Enemy psions wouldn’t be able to sense Jen, but they might sense Jay looking for him. He couldn’t take that risk.   
  
He found he was running his hand over the sheets where Jen should have been. This wasn’t working, wasn’t working at all. He sighed, and dragged himself out of bed.   
  
The break room in the Psions’ barracks was almost empty. Only three other people were there - a Guardian named Will, his Psion Blair, and Jim, an older Psion. He didn’t know them that well, but he knew they were aware he’d become bonded to Jen and where Jen was - he could feel it in the compassion that radiated from Blair and Jim, see it in the look of wordless understanding Will gave him as he kicked out a chair at their table. Blair poured him a drink. Jay accepted it, drank deep, welcoming the harsh burn of bourbon in his throat.   
  
\--   
  
Jen crouched in the old bomb crater, one shadow among many. He knew what he had to do, but he couldn’t help but wonder if this shit with Jay was going to blow the whole thing. He should have slept, and he hadn’t, and that could cost him an edge he couldn’t afford to lose. Once he made his move they were going to be on the run for hours. And he couldn’t stop being _distracted_ , wondering if Jay was asleep by now, worrying that he wasn’t. He couldn’t block his deep need to protect Jay, the feeling that he shouldn’t be away from him.  
  
He stopped breathing as a patrol walked by only a few feet away, the guard’s footsteps along the edge of the crater showering him with loosened sand.  
  
He should have heard him coming. He had to focus, or this thing with Jay was going to get him killed - and leave a Psion imprisoned, with his mind spinning out of sanity.  
  
The patrol passed into the distance.  
  
Time to move.  
  
Jen slid over the edge of the crater and crept towards the encampment. He’d evaded the patrols, and the lector psions making security sweeps wouldn’t sense his approach, but it paid to be careful. The lectors had no Guardian talents that the Corps had ever detected, and they still seemed to be having trouble adapting to the concept, but still...  
  
There. An inner perimeter of armed guards, watching the night carefully. This was an unusual level of security for lectors - what the hell were they doing in there?  
  
Jen crept closer, barely breathing, sliding a knife out of an ankle holster as he gained the safety of ink-black shadow behind a boulder. He took careful aim - he knew he had one chance to get this right or the alarm would go up and all hell would break loose.  
  
A breath, and then he paused as the footsteps of another patrol passed behind his position.  
  
Damn it.  
  
Finally the patrol was out of range, and he threw the knife hard. It crunched into what passed for the lector’s head, hitting dead on a weak point Jen knew well. The guard slumped to the ground.  
  
Jen retrieved his knife as he passed.  
  
The tent-like dwellings provided plenty of cover as he passed wraith-like through the camp, moving more surely as he picked up the sound of a soft whimpering he recognised as Christopher’s voice.  
  
The sound came from a low, hulking tent near the centre of the camp. Jen moved into the shadow it cast and positioned himself by one of the supporting posts. The tent’s “fabric” was a rubber-like plastic composite, and it split silently and smoothly when he slid his knife along the surface, blocking the light spill with his body.  
  
Christopher was inside, in one of the cage-like structures in which the lectors held their ill-fated prisoners. He looked a wreck, hunched in on himself and raggedly weeping. A lector stood by him, watching him.  
  
Jen carefully covered the split with a patch piece, to keep the light from showing as he moved carefully around to the tent’s entrance. The lector’s back was to the door. It started to turn as Jen stepped inside, but was falling dead before it could react any further.  
  
He tucked his knife away and pulled out the electronic lockpick he’d been given for the mission. Christopher was staring at him, still sobbing quietly. “Hey,” Jen breathed. “Easy. I’m going to get you out of here.”  
  
Christopher started to laugh, a manic hysteria in his voice. “Jen!” he howled. “They send me visions, visions, and again they send Jen!”  
  
“Quiet!” Jen hissed.  
  
Suddenly Christopher was serious. “No, no, vision of Jen, I will not be quiet, I will not follow you, I will not pass through the shield for you. I will not take you to my people.” He grabbed the bars of the cage and leaned close. His eyes were black in the dim light. “Drug me, hurt me, whisper your promises, and I will not falter. Death first,” he whispered.  
  
Jen could hear a stirring in the camp. This was drawing attention, although the guards weren’t here yet. Christopher must have done something like this before.  
  
He had a sedative with him, but he didn’t want to risk adding more drugs to whatever they seemed to have given Christopher.  
  
He sighed. Subtlety was overrated anyway.  
  
In one smooth motion, Jen drew his gun, firing several rounds into the lock mechanism until it started to break apart, ripped the door open and punched Christopher with carefully judged force. He caught him as he crumpled to the ground and slung him across his shoulders. Christopher stank - sour sweat and fear, and something else, something Jen didn’t recognise and didn’t have time to think about.  
  
He ran.   
  
\--   
  
Jay sipped his bourbon, refilling the glass periodically, heedless of the movements of people passing through the room. The edges of their emotions, washing over him even though he didn’t want them to, gave him an idea. Closing his eyes, Jay relaxed all his shields and let them in.   
  
The roaring in his mind was a sudden rush of pain, but he concentrated, separating the sense of minds he didn’t seek, letting his awareness expand. He was a passive receptor, feeling only what was broadcast, sifting through the voices until he found the one he needed to hear.   
  
There. Jen.   
  
He had the impression of exhaustion, the pain of a stitch and shortness of breath. Jen was running, had been running for a long time. He was worried, and carrying something heavy... someone. He had Christopher. Jay felt the flash of Jen’s thought - himself, the aching yearning to be with him.   
  
He hadn’t expected that.   
  
The pressure of minds, the mixed emotions of an entire battle zone, finally overcame his concentration. Jay’s own mind erupted in agony, and then shut down in self-defence.  
  
He passed out, slumping to the table, knocking his bourbon to the floor as he collapsed.  
  
\--   
  
Ellen frowned as she picked up a strange discontinuity in the wash of background thought and emotion in the base. She had only just come off shift on the generator crew, and she wondered what she’d missed as she isolated the disturbance.  
  
“He can’t be that stupid,” she muttered aloud, as she recognised Jay’s mind and realised what he was doing. She headed for the break room at a run, and arrived in time to see Jay collapse.  
  
“Shit,” Jim said, and made as if to get up.  
  
“You boys don’t have the sense you were born with,” Ellen growled, glaring at them impartially. “Jim, go get a bucket, a jug of water and a glass. Bring them to his quarters. Will, Blair, carry him back to his room.”  
  
“But -” Blair began.  
  
“Is there a problem?” Ellen snapped.  
  
“Uh, no.” Sheepishly, the men obeyed.  
  
\--  
  
Jay woke disoriented, feeling wretchedly drunk and profoundly nauseous. He moaned, feeling acutely miserable, and then his stomach cramped hard and he vomited, only realising as it happened that someone was holding him up, psionic power wrapped around his upper body, and holding him over a well-placed bucket.  
  
“Saw that coming,” said Ellen’s voice, soft in his ear. “Here.” She held a glass of cool water to his lips. He rinsed his mouth out, then drank it gratefully.  
  
“I can’t feel him,” he whimpered.  
  
“I’m shielding you. I’ll let it go for a second.”  
  
Jay choked down a scream as the noise of other minds jangled across his awareness, raw and painfully near. Somewhere in the distance was Jen, worried, tired, but alive.  
  
He gasped as the noise abated suddenly, cut silent as Ellen’s shields wrapped tight around him.  
  
“You’re going to feel like hell in the morning,” she said dryly. “You shouldn’t have done that... but I can see why you did.” She refilled his water glass. “Drink some more, and then you should sleep.”  
  
\--   
  
By dawn, Jen was finally sure he’d lost the pursuit. He paused to rest and check on Christopher. The Psion was still out cold, which worried him somewhat - he hadn’t hit him _that_ hard. It had perhaps been for the best while they were running, though Jen was aching from the effort of carrying the man for hours. He had already resolved that when Christopher recovered, Jen was going to train him hard until he lost some damn weight.   
  
Sighing, Jen drank a few mouthfuls of water and tucked his canteen away. Staying here would do nothing.   
  
He turned on his radio before slinging Christopher across his shoulders again. He didn’t want to risk broadcasting his position by transmitting, but it should be safe to receive now, and it was reassuring to hear the intermittent chatter of their troops.   
  
The sound of Dex’s voice surprised Jen a little, and worried him - he should have been with his unit, which would put Lorne or Flanagan on the radio. Jen had a moment to wonder if something had happened to them as he listened to Dex’s drawl.   
  
“Base, this is Sergeant Dex.” He sounded calm, but very little ruffled Dex. “ETA at the iris about two hours from the east. Six casualties.”   
  
That explained it, then. Dex was leading a convoy of wounded back to base. By the sounds of things, they’d won whatever skirmish they’d had - if six casualties were all that was left, Dex would be angry, at least.   
  
Jen shifted Christopher’s limp weight across his shoulders, and thought. If Dex was coming with a convoy from the east, they were in vehicles, which meant...   
  
With a sense of renewed energy, he began jogging north. If he could intercept the convoy, he could get Christopher checked by one of the medics. It might make a difference, and at least he wouldn’t have to carry the Psion the whole way back to base. Jen knew the paths their vehicles could take - from the east, there was one track Dex was most likely to take.   
  
About forty minutes later, he was on the path, and heard the convoy coming. Pleased, Jen keyed his radio. “Dex, this is Jen,” he said. “I’m on the track ahead of you. Over.”   
  
There was a brief silence. “Hang around, we’ll give you a ride. Been fishing? Over.”   
  
“Yeah. Got the barracuda, over.”   
  
“Well, congratulations.” Another pause. “I think we see you. We’ll be right there. Dex out.”   
  
The jeep in the lead accelerated, with its trail bike-mounted escort keeping pace, then came to a stop beside Jen in a shower of dust. “Holy shit, Jen.” Dex shouted for a medic. “What happened?”   
  
“They seem to have drugged him. I had to knock him out to get him away, but he should have come around hours ago.” He let Dex lift Christopher off his shoulders and lay him across a stretcher.   
  
“Well, let them handle it. Hop on.” Dex passed him a ration bar as Jen dropped, relieved, into the passenger seat. “You look tired.”   
  
“I’ve been carrying his ass since midnight.” Jen grimaced.   
  
“One skinny Psion and you’re tired already?” Dex teased. “You need to -”   
  
They both fell silent as the radio crackled to life. “This is Echo Company,” said a voice, over the sound of gunfire. “We’ve been hit by an ambush.” He gave co-ordinates. “I don’t think -” There was a burst of static, and silence again.   
  
Jen and Dex looked at each other. “Get Christopher back,” Jen said curtly. “They’re not far.”   
  
Dex nodded, and called to one of the escorting soldiers. “Tyson. Give Jen your bike. Now.”   
  
Jen stepped from the jeep to the seat of the bike Tyson held for him and dropped to sit astride it. Revving hard as he kicked it into gear, he gunned back up the path.   
  
\--   
  
Jay had a headache that he figured had nothing to do with the bourbon. His nerves jangled with the echoes of other people’s thoughts. Wincing, he intensified his shields until the normal currents of minds around him were muted, and dragged himself out into the mid-morning sun.   
  
“Jay!” Daria called from across the compound. Even through his shields he could feel her excitement as she ran over to him. “Have you heard? You haven’t heard,” she answered herself, as her mind touched his. “Jen made radio contact with Sergeant Dex. He’s coming in with him on an evac convoy.”   
  
“That’s _great_ ,” Jay said, dizzy with relief. Grinning, Daria hugged him.   
  
“I’ve got to run, but I’ll see you later. Both of you!” Daria headed away at a brisk jog.   
  
Jay was glad of the news, but something seemed wrong, somehow. He couldn’t shake the feeling.   
  
And then he saw the convoy, moving on the path from the iris. He could see Dex. He thinned his shields, wincing as the press of thoughts intruded on his, and brushed quickly across the company. He couldn’t feel Jen anywhere, but he found himself recoiling as his mind touched Christopher’s. Christopher was there, alive, which meant Jen _had_ made it that far... but something strange and twisted was happening to him.   
  
But he was there. Jen had saved him. Where was Jen?   
  
“ _Dex_!” he called, running over. “I heard Jen was with you. Where is he?”   
  
“There was a unit in trouble near our position, Jen went to help out. He shouldn’t be too long,” Dex told him.   
  
“Something’s _wrong_.” Jay felt sick.   
  
Dex looked at him for a long moment. “Let me tell you a story,” he drawled. “Do you know how I met Jen?”   
  
“No...”   
  
“About fifteen years ago, not long after we lost Texas, I was stationed at the front line. There were reports that a troop of ours was lost behind enemy lines - no-one knew who, but whoever they were, they were smashing the hell out of the enemy. Guerrilla attacks. I was sent with a squad to find them and bring them home, so they could operate with the army behind them...”   
  
_Corporal Dex moved carefully, silently, his men filing behind him as they stalked through the ruined woodlands. They were as quiet as he was, he noted with approval. This mission was dangerous - they were behind enemy lines, and he didn’t want anyone to hear them coming._  
  
 _They’d been looking for two days, and he had a feeling they were getting close, following a trail of traps and destruction the lost troop had left for the enemy. He was impressed. Whoever the lost squad were they were wreaking havoc on a grand scale._  
  
 _As he slipped around a large boulder, he heard the click of a safety coming off. He hadn’t picked up any sign of another human presence nearby, but there was a gun, pointed unwaveringly at his head._  
  
 _It was being held by a boy. A gawky, sandy-haired boy, no more than ten or eleven. He looked dirty and half-starved but the gun didn’t waver. He glanced back once._  
  
 _“Don’t come any further,” he said softly, calmly. There was a soft click from something in front of him. “Two more steps and you’ll set it off.”_  
  
 _‘It’, Dex saw, was a bomb, which the boy was carefully concealing beneath sand and dead leaves. “Thanks for the warning,” he said slowly. “Where are the others?”_  
  
 _The boy looked at him, his expression frighteningly calm. “There are no others,” he said in a monotone. “Everyone died.”_  
  
 _“When?”_  
  
 _“When the enemy came through.”_  
  
 _“You’ve been back here alone since Texas fell?”_  
  
 _“Yeah.” The boy stepped around his trap and started to walk away._  
  
 _“Wait.”_  
  
 _The boy stopped, didn’t look around. “For what?”_  
  
 _“You should come back with us.”_  
  
 _“No. They killed my family, so I’m going to kill them.”_  
  
 _“All of them? By yourself?”_  
  
 _“ **Yes.** ” _  
  
_Dex blinked. “You...” He paused. “You should still come back with us. We have food. And we have weapons, and we can train you with them, and teach you more ways to fight.”_  
  
 _The boy turned around. “Promise? You won’t make me stop fighting to go to school, or shit like that?”_  
  
 _“Word of honour.”_   
  
The boy stared at him for a long time. Dex waited patiently while he thought it over - nothing would come from rushing him. “Okay,” the boy answered at last.   
  
“That was Jen,” Sergeant Dex said. “He’d been on his own half a year by then, and he’d taken out most of a division all by himself. We took him home, and I spent three weeks arguing with the brass, but he stayed with us, and we taught him everything we knew. By the time he was fifteen he was better than I’ve ever been.” He clapped Jay on the shoulder. “I’m glad you and he, uh, found each other, if you get what I mean. He’s had it rough and I think you’re good for him. But I promise you, he can take care of himself. He’ll be back.”   
  
Jay started to answer, and then pain flooded him all at once and his voice choked off. It was all he could do to breathe through it, his body shaking beyond his control, and when it eased enough that he could think again, he was curled up on the ground, dirt under his cheek, Dex gripping his shoulder. “Jay. _Jay_.”   
  
“He’s hurt.” Jay rasped out. His whole body hurt, muscles locked and quivering, and in the back of his mind the link to Jen twisted, pain and darkness edged with blood. “Hurt bad.”


	4. Chapter 4

Jen skidded to a halt in a shower of dirt, leaping from the bike as it toppled. He could see Echo Company, drawn into a protective circle around the Psion Miyata, surrounded by enemy soldiers pressing hard. A shimmering dome extended around them from where Miyata crouched over the limp body of Sakurai, his Guardian. The shield seemed to be protecting them from bullets, but couldn’t withstand the press of melee weapons. Echo Company were fighting hard, but they were surrounded and outnumbered.   
  
Time to fix that.   
  
Jen attacked. He was tired, but his body responded, automatically shifting and dodging as the enemy realised he was there and began to split their attack to try and take him down from both sides. He drew his guns and picked off the nearest with careful precision, then kept firing, now thinning the enemy lines where Echo Company were faltering. His clips ran out as the enemy closed towards him, and he flicked his guns into their holsters and drew his swords in one fluid movement.   
  
The attack began to falter, and Echo Company, revived by his assault, fought back with renewed vigour. Miyata extended his protection to Jen, deflecting several attacks that might have wounded him, and in a short span of time it was Echo Company closing around the last knot of ambushers.   
  
“I have never been happier to see anyone in my life,” Lieutenant Veroni told him. Veroni had a pressure bandage tight against his side, blood his uniform, but was still on his feet.   
  
“You should come back to base,” Jen said. “You’ve got a lot of wounded.”   
  
“Yeah, we - what’s that sound?” Veroni looked up. “Oh, god. _Incoming! Take cover!_ ”   
  
The soldiers moved fast, taking whatever cover was in range. Most ran to cluster around Miyata, who stood over his Guardian, head bowed as he formed the strongest shield he could. Knowing that a shield strong enough to withstand artillery couldn’t be large, Jen leapt towards Miyata and Sakurai. He’d almost reached them when the shell hit.   
  
He came to only seconds later, he thought, from the sound of people still reacting to the bomb blast. He was aware of the noise but couldn’t see, and when he tried to sit up, his body wouldn’t respond.   
  
For some reason he didn’t feel any pain.   
  
Maybe he was dying.   
  
It could be worse, he reflected. He’d saved at least some of Echo Company, and he’d fought well until now. Jen could die without regrets.   
  
Except one.   
  
He could feel the bond with Jay, even now, when everything else seemed gone. The connection was there, the sense that he was a part of someone else. Jay wouldn’t take this well - Jen had seen Psions who’d just lost their Guardian. He’d tried to keep one from killing himself, and failed - there was no way to stop a Psion from taking his own life if he really wanted to, and the only Psion who’d ever seemed to have enough will to live without her Guardian was Anderson. A broken shell of a woman, no matter how much respect she commanded...   
  
No.   
  
Not Jay. Not like that. Not ever.   
  
Jen willed himself to keep it together, to focus on the sounds that were fading away. He had to get back. Had to. For Jay.   
  
\--   
  
He didn’t need to see Jen carried in on a stretcher to know it was bad, Dex still half-supporting him as they waited by the iris, though he’d mastered the echoed trauma enough to function. A medical team closed around the casualties and doctors ran from patient to patient, calling out triage priorities. First one, then two stopped at Jen’s side, then nurses were called.   
  
Jay strained to see him past the bustling nurses, fought to hear the low, urgent instructions the doctors gave. At odd moments he glimpsed Jen’s body, bloody and pale and unmoving. There was a lot of blood, on Jen and on the other injured. The air was filled with the cries of the wounded, the calls of the medical team, and the smell of blood and charred flesh.   
  
“I got you,” Dex said, moving fast to pull him out of the way as he retched. “Happens to everyone, the first time,” Dex added sympathetically when Jay had control of himself.   
  
He couldn’t stand watching the ghoulish spectacle any more, and went in search of the men who’d brought Jen in. He caught up with one of them just short of the compound.   
  
“What happened?” Jay demanded.   
  
The soldier, an exhausted-looking sergeant whose uniform was bloodstained, stared at him for long moments before he answered. “Ambush... sir. We were hit from both sides.”   
  
“He was with you?”   
  
“No.” The man’s mouth twisted. “He cut through on one side. Broke the pincer. Saved my squad.”   
  
“Damn him.” Jay headed back at a run, angling towards the Infirmary, where he could see the wounded were being taken at speed.   
  
It was hours before Jen was out of surgery to remove shrapnel, and hours more before he showed signs of life. Jay ignored the medical staff who tried to hustle him out and waited silently, watching Jen’s life signs flicker on the monitors as hours ticked by.   
  
He saw them change as Jen came to, still disoriented from pain and the drugs they’d given him, and start to struggle against the tubes and dressings that entangled his body.   
  
“Hey,” Jay said softly, pressing his palm to Jen’s chest, where skin showed between the bandages. “Steady. You got hurt.”   
  
Jen blinked at him, looking confused. “Jay?”   
  
“Yeah.”   
  
“Jay? Wha-”   
  
“You got hurt, Jen.” Jay smiled weakly. “Where else would I be?”   
  
Jen grunted, and started looking around. Jay let himself feel what Jen felt, steeling himself against the pain that stabbed at him, phantom wounds across his body, until he realised what Jen needed. “Here,” he said quietly, taking the water glass by the bed and holding the straw to Jen’s lips. He felt the relief as Jen sipped, and the silent gratitude. “Any time,” he added, smiling gently. “Now sleep,” he added, and Jen’s eyes drifted closed.   
  
\--   
  
“Hey,” said a soft voice from the doorway. Jay looked up.   
  
“Hey, Daria.”   
  
She slipped into the room and pulled up a chair next to his, placing the bag she carried gently on the floor. “He’s strong. He’ll be okay,” she said quietly.   
  
“Yeah.” Jay breathed. “He has to be.”   
  
“Yeah.” She reached down to her bag and pulled out a ration pack. “This was the best I could do on short notice. Eat.”   
  
“I’m not hungry.”   
  
“You’ve been in here for nine hours, Jay. And I don’t know when you last ate. Eat or... or when Jen gets better I’ll tell him you didn’t.” Daria opened the pack and held it towards him. Jay stared at her, then sighed, and took the pack. “Good,” Daria said, standing. “I’ll run by your quarters and get your clothes and toothbrush, okay?”   
  
“Thanks, Daria.”   
  
“Any time.” She smiled gently. “Anything you need, just let me know.”   
  
He wasn’t sure how long it was before she returned and handed him a duffel bag of his clothes. She also had a smaller bag of his toiletries, and promptly chivvied him out of his chair and into the tiny bathroom attached to Jen’s room to shower. “You have to take care of yourself too, Jay, and frankly, you stink,” she said firmly. “I’ll stay by Jen while you’re in there and I promise I’ll call you if anything changes.”   
  
Jay could sense that she was adamant, and that Jen was still sleeping. Reluctantly, he acquiesced.   
  
His shower was brief, but when he emerged, Daria had nonetheless made changes to the room. Two nurses were shifting the machines and monitors to one side of Jen’s bed. Another hospital bed had been brought into the room.   
  
“Are they putting another patient in here?” Jay asked, displeased.   
  
“No, silly,” Daria smiled at him. “That one’s for you. Standard procedure, I just hurried them up a little.” The nurses had completed their work and stepped aside, and Daria pushed the bed within arm’s reach of Jen’s before locking the wheels in place. “He’s your Guardian, Jay,” she said quietly. “People understand. Trust me.”   
  
“I...” Jay shook his head. “Thank you.”   
  
Daria and the nurses left, and Jay arranged himself on the second bed so that he could reach across the narrow space between them and wrap his fingers around Jen’s hand. Daria was so thoughtful. He needed this.   
  
For as long as he could remember, he’d been aware of the aching emptiness that had just seemed to be a part of who he was. He’d learned to ignore it, learned to be cheerful, learned to live with the void.   
  
And then there was Jen.   
  
Something had drawn him to the soldier since the moment they met. He’d easily lost himself in following Jen’s lead, watching him fight, hell, watching him all the time. He’d wanted to know what Jen hid beneath his deadpan facade, had wanted to do anything to get a reaction from him, until he’d realised he knew what Jen kept hidden, because he could feel it. Because Jen was becoming a part of him.   
  
For the first time, now he had Jen, he felt complete. Whole.   
  
He couldn’t lose that.   
  
“Stay with me, Jen,” he whispered aloud. “I need you.” He paused. “I love you.”   
  
Exhaustion overtook him, and he slept.   
  
\--   
  
Daria brought him breakfast the next morning, and the best she’d heard about the missions that had ended with Jen in hospital.   
  
“They did something _strange_ to Christopher,” she said, frowning. “Drugged him, and they’re not sure what else. He’s raving, hallucinating, and his powers are out of control.” She glanced at Jen. “He may have got him out just in time - apparently, from what Christopher’s been saying, they think they were trying to use him to bypass the shields.”   
  
“Damn.” Jay sighed, looking at Jen, pale and unconscious. “But he got Christopher out. What really happened?”   
  
“Echo Company were ambushed. Miyata and Sakurai were with them, but they were outflanked. Jen went over and helped break through the encirclement, which was fine... he’s good, and Miyata saw him and was able to give him partial shielding, so that was okay. But a bomb hit their position just afterwards.”   
  
“Ours or theirs?”   
  
“I don’t know, I haven’t heard.”   
  
“Shit.”   
  
“Yeah.” She smiled wryly. “He’s going to be okay, Jay. He is. But just a thought...”   
  
“Never let him out without me again?”   
  
“Pretty much.”   
  
“Trust me, I’m on it,” Jay growled. “Miyata’s good but he had Sakurai and Echo Company to protect. I can’t help but think he’d have been okay if I’d been with him.”   
  
“Maybe.” Daria held up a hand as Jay started to argue with her. “I’m not saying you’re wrong, just... it could be dangerous to think too much about what could have been, you know? It happened. He’s alive, he’s going to recover, so don’t think about how it _could_ have been.”   
  
\--   
  
Jay woke to the sound of distant artillery and the soft beeping of the monitors. His own arm was stretched across the gap between their beds, his hand resting lightly on Jen’s arm. Jen’s skin was slightly chill under his touch, and faintly damp with sweat. Reaching out with his mind, Jay found that Jen was wide awake and in pain. His mind was much sharper today, free of the effects of anaesthetic.   
  
“Hey,” he said softly, sitting up. “Want me to call a nurse?”   
  
“Nah.” Jen opened his eyes and looked at Jay. “I’m okay.”   
  
“You’re hurting, Jen.” Jay frowned. “You could have a shot, and -”   
  
“I can handle it.” Jen looked away.   
  
“I can _feel_ your pain, man. Seriously...” Jay trailed off at the sharp look Jen gave him.   
  
“You can feel this?”   
  
“Yeah.”   
  
Jen was silent for a long moment, and then exhaled. Jay wondered at the sense of exasperation he picked up from him. “Call the nurse,” Jen growled.   
  
The shot administered, Jay sighed in unison with Jen as the pain started to ease. Jen glared at him.   
  
“What?”   
  
“You’re a pain in my ass.”  
  
Jay snorted. “Yeah, sure. Whatever.” He leaned back, satisfied.  
  
\--   
  
“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” Jay asked.   
  
“Yes,” Jen answered through gritted teeth.   
  
“Okay.”   
  
Jay rested his fingertips lightly on the skin at Jen’s wrist, under the cuff of his Corps-issue sweatshirt, and let power flow from the contact to wrap around Jen’s body, carefully, gently, supporting his Guardian as he pushed himself out of bed and to his feet, swaying very slightly. The echoes of pain were intense, but manageable. Jay concentrated, blocking some of the pain himself.   
  
“Thanks,” Jen grunted, breathing carefully. “Let’s go.”   
  
The contact established, Jay could help support Jen now without having to touch him, but he still stayed very close as they left the building and slowly crossed the compound to the training hall.   
  
The large, long room was filled with the noise of two Auxiliary Corps squads and several Field Pairs all training intensively, but as they entered, a silence fell and the movement within ceased. Jay was unnerved as the room’s occupants stared.   
  
And then the cheering started. The soldiers applauded, some coming over to congratulate Jen on his recovery, some to thank him personally for saving Echo Company. None tried to touch him, so none of them encountered the protective barrier Jay had thrown up between his Guardian and any risk of overenthusiastic welcomes.   
  
Jen accepted the fuss only briefly. “That’s enough,” he growled. “You assholes think this is some kind of excuse not to work?”   
  
There was laughter, but the soldiers returned to training. Jay discreetly assisted Jen to a chair, aware that the effort of standing, even with Jay’s help, was exhausting him. “Anything I can do?” he asked quietly.   
  
“I’m fine,” Jen replied.   
  
“Jen...” He trailed off as Jen glared at him.   
  
“You know what? Get your ass out there.” Jen raised his voice. “Ishida!” He called one of the soldiers across. “You’re sloppy today. You’re gonna work with Jay, and one of you better do it right.”   
  
Jay took his place warily. Ishida was smaller than he was, but he was fast, and skilled. He knew that Ishida wouldn’t hurt him, especially not under the intense scrutiny Jen was giving them, but he didn’t want to look foolish, either.   
  
They engaged, Jay blocking Ishida’s attacks. He knew he’d seen the specific movement he was supposed to do here, but he’d never really mastered it.   
  
He blinked, and Ishida was hitting the mat with a thump. For a moment, it had seemed to Jay as if he was watching himself fight, and had _known_ what he should do.   
  
He looked at Jen, who gave him the tiniest of nods, but Jay could feel his pride and satisfaction. He grinned back at his Guardian, and offered Ishida a hand up from the mat.   
  
\--   
  
Jen could feel pain pricking the edges of his awareness, knew that if he gave into it it would remind him just how badly he’d been injured. He turned his mind away, casting his gaze over the dim shadows on his ceiling. They’d released him from the infirmary that afternoon with strict instructions regarding his activities. Pain or not, it was good to be out of the ward, with their damn machines and incessant beeping. Jay was pleased, too - Jen could tell from the way the Psion was curled up around him now, gently cradling him. One of Jay’s hands was resting over Jen’s heart, as though reassuring him that Jen was still here, still alive, even though the Psion was sleeping.   
  
It was - Jen didn’t know what to think. It was as though Jay thought he was something precious, something special, but when Jen looked in the mirror he saw nothing but a man trained to kill in a million different ways, broken and sharp-edged, covered in scars and tape. He didn’t - he wasn’t special, wasn’t something to protect. He didn’t understand what Jay was thinking at all. Hell, it freaked him out even trying to follow his crazy logic. But then he thought about Jay, and under all of it was this fierce protectiveness, and damned if Jen knew where that came from. He’d come to terms with some of this bond thing when he was out there, wounded and bleeding, this wasn’t something that was going to change. But - Jay confused him, and, hell.   
  
Jen sighed, relaxing into the warmth the Psion - _his_ Psion - was providing. Jay wasn’t going anywhere, he’d made that clear, and he wasn’t going to let Jen go anywhere either. He’d promised that much while Jen was still in the infirmary, half awake and seeing double. Maybe this would work out. Jay didn’t seem to mind Jen’s scars, even the ones he couldn’t see. If nothing else, Jen would see Jay safely through the war, if it took everything he had. Anything trying to touch Jay would have to go through Jen first.   
  
The heat finally worked its way into him, easing some of the pain, and Jen relaxed further, Jay’s arms tightening around him. He didn’t know if he could handle being precious to someone, but he was going to stick around and find out.  
  
\--  
  
Jen was getting stronger every day. He was supervising more training, and that was good - it kept him occupied, and engaged, and he brooded much less if he had something to do. Something was bothering Jen a lot, Jay knew, but he was successfully keeping it blocked from Jay’s perception.  
  
Today, they were watching Guardian cadets at target practice. Jen watched the cadets on the firing range impassively, correcting their stances here and there.  
  
One was starting to slack off. The cadet - his name was Spencer, Jay remembered - was watching the cadet at the next position shoot, and heckling him good naturedly even as Jen approached him.  
  
“Is there a reason you’re not practicing right now, cadet?” Jen asked, in a deceptively even tone. The firing range noise lessened somewhat as the nearby cadets stopped shooting to listen.  
  
“I think I’ve got this down... sir,” Spencer answered. “I’ll save my ammo for when we’re up to moving targets.”  
  
Jen looked at him for a long moment, then pressed the button to retract the target. Jay looked it over - the cadet’s shots were all tightly grouped, some of the bullet holes overlapping. “Not good enough,” Jen said crisply. “I want to see one hole. Every shot at the same point or you’re not good enough to be a Guardian.”  
  
Spencer stared at him. “Yes _sir_.” As Jen turned away, he muttered, just loud enough to be clearly audible, “I’d like to see _you_ do better.”  
  
Jen turned back, and Spencer paled slightly. Wordlessly, Jen pulled Spencer’s target off the mounting, and put a fresh one in its place before sending the target out to the very back of the range.  
  
He drew a gun in the deathly hush that had come over the room, and pointed it down the range. He barely seemed to take aim at all before he fired off twenty shots in rapid succession, then changed clips and drew his other gun. He fired again, first alternating hands and then firing both together until he had expended both clips, then pulled the target back.  
  
One hole, barely larger than a single bullet, smoking at the edges, was clear in the dead centre of the target.  
  
“Any questions?” Jen asked.  
  
Spencer straightened to attention. “No sir!”  
  
“Good. Now do it again. Properly.”  
  
Jay was grinning so hard his face ached as Jen stepped back and watched as the cadets resumed firing. Jen had seemed like a wounded shadow of himself lately - for the first time since he’d been injured, he’d looked like _Jen_ again.  
  
It was almost the end of the class when Spencer pulled back his target to show Jen only two distinct holes - ragged-edged, but still only the two. Jen nodded.  
  
“You can still do better, cadet, but that will do for today,” was all he said.  
  
Spencer looked set to explode with pride.   
  
\--  
  
 _Hey Momma, we’ve been here a couple of weeks now and things are starting to settle down. Jen was injured on a mission a little while ago so we’re mostly training until he’s fit for duty. He’s gonna be okay though, don’t worry. I’m doing well too. I know you’re worried about me but I really think Jen and I are going to be okay. When we get some leave I’ll have to bring him home to meet everyone. Give my love to the family. -Jay_  
  
\--  
  
“Are you ready?” Jen asked, in a low voice.   
  
Jay swallowed. “Yeah.”   
  
“Everyone’s nervous their first time outside the shields,” Will said encouragingly.   
  
“This isn’t the Protected Zone. It’s a whole different world,” Blair put in. He squeezed Jay’s shoulder. “But you can handle it, okay?”   
  
Jay nodded. “Okay.”   
  
Jen looked at Colonel Flanigan. “We’re ready.”   
  
Flanigan nodded. “Captain, give the order,” he said quietly.   
  
“Company, form up,” Captain Lorne ordered crisply.   
  
Jay shielded himself against the waves of tension and apprehension from the newest soldiers as the men began forming into lines.   
  
“Take hands,” Lorne called, himself taking a soldier’s hand and Blair’s.   
  
A couple of the recruits seemed uncomfortable with the order. Jay felt his nervousness dissolving into his amusement as the burly and intimidating Sergeant Dex slung an arm around the shoulders of two of them. “Cuddle up, boys,” Dex shouted, smirking.   
  
“Yeah, snuggle up, asshole,” called a corporal as he grabbed another man.   
  
Jen, expressionless, took Jay’s hand, squeezing it gently in reassurance. Jay felt the echoes of a strange, foreign tension brush the edges of his awareness, and then the lines were completed. Blair took Jim’s hand as Colonel Flanigan took Jay’s, and Jen reached out to touch the shield.   
  
The shock travelled through his body to Jay’s, and for a moment he could see the generator crew, ranged on couches around the shield focus. He felt their recognition of his mind, a brief flash of warmth and encouragement in a moment of personal acknowledgement from Ellen. Then Jen tugged his hand to walk through, and they stepped out beyond the shield.   
  
The sound of the artillery was louder out here. The air smelled of smoke and ozone, and the good cheer of the soldiers rapidly became a wary silence as the lines stepped out through the shields.   
  
Jay shivered.   
  
“Good luck, Colonel,” he heard Will say.   
  
“You too, Guardian,” Flanigan replied.   
  
“We’ll be fine,” Jen said, his voice pitched for Jay’s ears only.   
  
Will led the way, watchful as they moved over the broken terrain. Blair, Jay noticed, paid less attention to their surroundings than he did to Will. There was a protective, proprietary air about him, but there was something more than that - he was waiting for something specific, even as he didn’t want it to happen. It was strange.   
  
It was also time for Jay to do his job. He formed shields around all four of them, and let his awareness expand. He could feel Colonel Flanigan and his soldiers, sharp and clear against a background of a darker energy than he was used to feeling. The battle zone was etched with death and fear. He shouldn’t have been surprised.   
  
Ahead, a wrongness. Somewhere, something... he shuddered.   
  
“Jay.” Jen’s voice sounded like it was coming from a long way away. “What is it?”   
  
“There’s something out there,” Jay said thickly. “It’s-”   
  
“Breathe.” Jen’s hands on his shoulders. “What is it?”   
  
Jay took a deep, shuddering breath and opened his eyes. He didn’t remember closing them. “Nothing I’ve ever felt before. Straight ahead.”   
  
“Okay.” Jen nodded. “We’ll go check it out. Be careful, don’t zone out.” He glanced at Will, who nodded.   
  
A stiff breeze stirred the dust as they crept forward. Will and Blair dropped back, letting the Corps’ newest team handle the situation but ready to back them up if they needed it. Jay concentrated, shielding his own presence in case there was an enemy psion to contend with.   
  
Jen approached a cracked precipice further along the broken rock they were crossing. Beyond was a narrow gully. Jay felt a flash of a cold, implacable loathing from Jen as his Guardian silently pulled one of his guns from its holster. Moving carefully, Jay took position next to Jen at the edge and looked down.   
  
The sheer rock slope towards the bottom of the gully was marked with streaks of ash and spatters of blood, drying darkly against the pale stone. Below there were bodies - mostly human, if barely recognisable, torn and charred, hideously defiled. Three surviving lectors were there, as well as some enemy dead. One was bent over a fallen soldier, clawed hand in the act of ripping the body open.   
  
Jay choked on the bile that rose in his throat. The other two aliens looked up sharply, reaching for weapons, but Jen was already firing. Three quick shots and all three were toppling to the ground.   
  
Retching, Jay turned away, ashamed of his weakness. He could feel Jen’s sorrow, regret - Jen, who hadn’t been shocked at all, but was hating that Jay had had to see it.   
  
“It’s okay, man,” Jen said softly. “The first time is always the worst.”   
  
Jay turned back, wiping his mouth. “Okay.” He took a deep breath. “It’s under control.”  
  
Jen nodded. “Stay here, I’ve got to go down there.”  
  
“I’ll come with you,” Jay said quickly. Jen looked him for a long moment.  
  
“I’ve got this.” He reached over and squeezed Jay’s shoulder. “Next time.”  
  
Jen lowered himself over the edge and slid carefully down into the gully. Picking his way among the human corpses, he collected the dogtags from each soldier and tucked them into a thigh pocket. Once that was done, he kicked the enemy bodies over and gave them a brief examination. Jay could feel his very real sorrow for the dead soldiers, and his disgust at the enemy. Finally, Jen climbed back to the top of the slope.  
  
“Let’s get back,” he said.  
  
“Okay.” Jay glanced at the pocket where Jen had stored the tags. “Someone did that for my brother. We got one of his tags, too.”  
  
“Where did he die?” Jen’s tone was even, but he was sympathetic.  
  
“Battle of Little Rock.”  
  
Jen blinked. “Oh.” He took a breath. “That was, uh, me.”  
  
“What was you?”  
  
“I went back to Little Rock. Got the tags from everyone who died. We send one to the families, the other...” He paused. “I’ll show you, when we get back to base.”  
  
Jay wanted to question him further, but he could sense Blair, not far ahead, and getting closer. They’d heard the shots and were worried. Blair’s relief was intense as he saw them come into view from behind a rock. He was following close behind Will, who had weapons drawn.   
  
“What was that?” Will asked.   
  
“A squad from Delta Company lost a fight,” Jen answered grimly. “Three enemy survivors. All dead now.”   
  
Will nodded. “I’ll radio in.”   
  
“Are you okay?” Blair asked Jay softly.   
  
“Yeah, it was just... pretty ugly, I guess.”   
  
“It usually is.”   
  
\--   
They got back to the base just over a week later after several more enemy encounters. They were, Jay discovered with great relief, allowed to shower and eat before debriefing. After a week living on ration packs, he had been looking forward to the modest pleasures of the mess hall, and blithely ignored Jen’s sardonic expression as he loaded his tray to capacity.   
  
After they ate, they reported to Colonel Morgan’s office to be debriefed. Major Anderson was with him, and questioned them both in detail on their experiences in the field. She seemed satisfied with their answers, and finally they were dismissed.  
  
Jen caught Jay’s arm as they left the office. “Come on,” he said quietly. “There’s something we’ve gotta do.”  
  
He led Jay between two of the buildings and around the outer perimeter of the complex to the back of the residential building where they lived along with most of the Auxiliary Corps soldiers. The building had a curious attachment at the back that Jay hadn’t known existed - an extension of prefab construction sheets had been tacked on the back, with narrow doors at each end.   
  
Jen opened a door and slipped inside. Jay followed, and stopped short, his breath catching.   
  
Along the long wall, lit by lamps nailed to the wall, were long rows of hooks. From each, a single dogtag hung - some stained with dried blood, some charred, some seeming half-melted. Leaning closer, he read names - they were unfamiliar, but each was tagged PC or PAC - each had belonged to a Psionic or Auxiliary Corps soldier.   
  
Jen was kneeling by some empty hooks, holding the handful of tags he had brought back from the fallen squad they had found. He was removing one of the two tags from each chain, and hanging it on the wall. When he had finished, he took the bullet casings he had brought back, and laid them gently beneath the tags.   
  
He was still for long moments, then stood.   
  
Jay started to speak, and found his throat seemed clogged. After a moment, he mastered it. “The rest go to their families?”   
  
“Yeah.”   
  
Jay swallowed. “Is my brother’s here?”   
  
Jen nodded, and walked further along the wall. “Here.”   
  
The tag was badly stained - the one they’d received had been clean, but this one was untouched since it was pulled off the battlefield. Jeff’s name was barely readable - Padalecki, Jef was all that he could see, the rest lost under blood and ash and grime.   
  
Jay realised he was shaking as he felt Jen’s hand on his back, pressing warm between his shoulderblades. “I’m sorry,” Jen said quietly.   
  
“Yeah.” Jay’s voice cracked.   
  
“Let’s get out of here, okay?” Jen rubbed small circles on his back. “You can tell me all about him.”   
  
\--   
  
Training resumed, almost as if they’d never been gone, but they now had a heavier rotation of Field Pair combat simulations, together taking on entire squads of Auxiliary Corps soldiers, sometimes with another Psion joining the soldiers. On their third afternoon back, Sergeant Dex, grinning maliciously, lined up with the soldiers, looking massive and intimidating standing next to the petite form of Major Anderson.  
  
Jay blinked. This was not going to be easy.  
  
He felt a surge of anticipation from Jen, rising to the challenge their opposition presented, and readied himself for combat.  
  
The first whistle blew, and the soldiers and Major Anderson filed out of the hall into the training field. Jen and Jay waited, Jay impatiently, as the five minutes allowed to the defending team to prepare themselves passed, and then the second whistle blew.  
  
The mock battle was the longest they’d ever had, hard-fought and more intense psychically than anything Jay had experience in the field. Major Anderson was a formidable opponent, and Jen and Dex stalked each other for almost ten minutes after the other soldiers had been taken out of combat before they finally engaged, a furious combat that Jen won only narrowly. With him out of the way, they could attack Major Anderson directly. She fought hard, but finally Jay got past her defences. Jen touched his training knife to her neck gently, almost delicately.  
  
She tapped his arm twice in quick succession, acknowledging defeat, and blew her own whistle when he released her.  
  
“Excellent,” she said, in an oddly tight voice. Her shields were shaky after the intense battle with Jay, and an intense sense of loss and grief was bleeding through them. “Dismissed.”  
  
Jay followed Jen’s cue, and turned and left quickly.  
  
\--   
  
Major Anderson was frowning at some papers on her desk when Jay arrived in response to her summons. She looked up almost immediately, before he could make a sound, and gestured for him to sit down.   
  
“Thank you for coming to see me, Jay,” she said, perching on the edge of her desk in front of him. “I’d like to discuss your first trip into combat territory.” She held up a hand. “Will and Blair give excellent reports of you. You’re not in trouble. But I’d like to hear your impressions of it.”   
  
Jay considered this. “It was pretty ugly. We found a squad that had been wiped out. Three lectors still standing over them. They were, uh. With the bodies.”   
  
She nodded. “I don’t need to know the details of what you saw. It’s more important to look at how you felt, and how you’re feeling now.”   
  
“Yeah...” Jay rubbed at the back of his neck. “I think I’m okay, really. It’s...” He took a breath. “It’s pretty nasty, but it’s the war, and that’s why we’re fighting them.”   
  
“So you think you can handle seeing more of that?” Her gaze on him was intent, and he could sense her reading deeply into his emotions.   
  
“Yes ma’am.”   
  
“Good.” She paused, and then, without warning, struck a mental blow in his direction.   
  
Reflexively, Jay deflected it, scrambling to his feet and slamming his shields into place. “Ma’am, what -”   
  
“Excellent.” Major Anderson stood and looked up at him. “Always be alert. You’re going to be passed into full duty. Good luck, Psion.” She pulled something from her pocket and reached up, unpinning the cadet insignia from his collar and pinning a Psion-Lieutenant’s crest in its place. “Take care of yourself.” She paused. “And take care of your Guardian.”   
  
Unable to think of anything to say, Jay saluted.   
  
\--   
  
“Ah, Jen.” General Pasdar looked up from his desk. “Take a seat.”   
  
Jen obediently dropped into the general’s visitor chair. “Sir.”   
  
“I’ve gone over the reports on Jay’s training, and your field mission last week.” Pasdar smiled thinly. “They’re uniformly satisfactory. Which means that we’re now ready to promote you.” He picked something off his desk and tossed it towards Jen, who snatched it out of the air. “Congratulations, Lieutenant.”   
  
Jen opened his palm and stared at the bright new insignia of a Guardian-Lieutenant. “Thank you, sir.”   
  
“You’ll be reporting to Colonel Morgan for duty.” Pasdar was silent for a long moment. “Be careful,” he then said, in a low, intense voice. “Protect your Psion. Losing him is something you never want to deal with.” He forestalled any answer Jen might have made with a crisp, louder dismissal.   
  
Jen stepped out of the general’s office and walked briskly from the administration building to his own room, where he replaced his cadet-instructor insignia with his new marks of rank. It was a strange feeling, after all his years in the Corps, to be an official, formal part of a Field Pair.   
  
He thought about the general’s advice. He remembered Pasdar, back when he was Captain Pasdar, teamed up with his Psion brother. He’d been more easygoing then, charming and popular. When he’d been brought in without his Psion - amazingly, still alive - he’d gone on a weeks-long bender until others had intervened... and ended up at a desk job.   
  
He’d done well, but he’d become hard, and stayed unhappy. Jen didn’t think he could live like that, caged in the base. He knew that losing Jay would rip him apart in places he didn’t have a name for.   
  
Jay would just have to live. No other option could be considered.   
  
\--   
  
Jay stepped out into the compound, feeling pleased but still disoriented. He wasn’t sure quite what to think of his promotion - he knew it was early, but he also knew that Anderson would never have approved it if she didn’t think he could handle it... unless she, and the other ranking officers, thought they could risk it to get Jen on full field duty.   
  
He wasn’t sure quite how good he himself was, but he was damn sure that Jen was just that good and that everyone knew it.   
  
He angled towards the mess hall, but changed direction as Ellen called him from the doorway of the generator complex.   
  
“I heard you went into the field,” she said. “How did it - oh.” She was staring at his collar. “Congratulations.” Her smile seemed slightly forced, but she was shielding him from whatever she was feeling. “Take care out there. Take care of yourself, take care of Jen... come back alive.” She clapped him on the shoulder, and turned back into the building before he could answer.   
  
Slightly perturbed, Jay jogged towards the mess hall. Some of his cadet group were there, chatting over coffee. Jay took a sandwich and joined them.   
  
“Jay, you didn’t!” Daria exclaimed as she saw him. “You did! Look, everyone, it’s Lieutenant Jay!”   
  
Jay smiled, a little embarrassed, as they congratulated him.   
  
Christopher was last, and his expression was sour. “That was quick,” he said pointedly. “You’ve clearly found the way to rapid career advancement... I wish I was sleeping with Jen too.”   
  
Before Jay could answer, Daria snorted at Christopher. “We know you do, Chris,” she said, winking at Jay. “We know.”   
  
The Psions all felt the momentary flash of bitterness, tinged with a distinct note of jealousy, before Christopher slammed his shields tightly into place and stalked away.   
  
There was a brief silence at the table. “So,” Greg said brightly, “have you seen how the paintball league is going this season? I think the Squad Twelve Dragons are really looking good.”   
  
“Uh, yeah,” Gwen answered. “Weren’t the Falcons on top before?”   
  
“They were, but Squad Four got sent into the field and they might not be back before the end of the season,” Ian put in. “Any of you thinking of joining the Field Pairs league?”   
  
“Maybe we should,” Jay mused.   
  
“You can’t,” Ian said quickly. “Jen is banned from paintball.”   
  
“What? Why?”   
  
“I hear he and Sergeant Dex entered both leagues one year, and took both titles,” Gwen explained, grinning. “Dex is good, but not that good, so they gave Jen the floating trophies to keep and banned him from the leagues. You remember we saw him killing everyone in training - you have to grant he’s good.”   
  
Jay grinned. “Yeah. He’s the best.”   
  
  
  
\--   
  
_Hey Momma, today Jen and I got promoted to a full field pair. I’m a Psion-Lieutenant now, which means we’ll probably be sent out soon. Jen is all recovered now, and everyone else here is well._  
  
“Jay.” Jen stuck his head inside their quarters. Jay looked up from his letter. “Orders to report to Colonel Morgan. On the double.”   
  
They headed to the administration building and the Colonel’s office. Morgan was standing by a pinup board in his office when they arrived, adjusting markers on a map of the territory their base protected. “Jen. Jay. Have a look at this,” he said as they entered.   
  
“Sir.” They joined him at the map.   
  
“This is your section,” he said, pointing out an area some distance from the base. “I want you to head out today, sweep the perimeter, and monitor all enemy movements in that area. If they have a psion, take them out. If they don’t, send their position and direction of movement and the auxiliaries can take care of it. If it’s too much for you, call for backup from an adjacent section. Any questions?”   
  
“No, sir,” Jen answered.   
  
“Good. You’ll be contacted when you’re due to be relieved. Move out.”   
  
\--   
  
Slipping through the shield, just the two of them, was a strange feeling. Jay found himself intensely aware of the emptiness and desolation around them, the emptiness between them and the nearest minds he could touch. Only Jen was near, warm and solid and reassuring.   
  
It took more than a day of steady marching to get to the near perimeter of their section. The deeper battle zone was a landscape even more ruined than the area nearer the base. They stepped carefully where patches of sand had melted into glass in past battles. It didn’t make Jay feel any better about the near-constant sound of artillery, now sounding much closer than it had from the base.   
  
The defining landmark of their sector was the ash-blackened ruins of a small town. Jen picked his way across the rubble to where one building near the edge of the town was still at least recognisable, even if the remains of the walls didn’t come past Jay’s waist at their most intact point.   
  
“Here,” Jen said, crouching by a slab of fallen masonry. It lay at an angle from the piece of wall still standing. “Follow me.” He crawled under the slab.   
  
Jay followed, dropping awkwardly into the hole in the ground he found in the shadows under the slab. He heard Jen strike a match, then blinked as candlelight steadied in the basement. He looked around, not quite believing what he saw.   
  
Stacks of books, thick with dust, were on shelves to one side. Most were marked with crosses. Broken furniture was shoved into a messy heap below the shelves. There were also crates. One was open, half-filled with candles. On the other side, piles of bags, stamped with the mark of the Psionic Corps, were heaped against the wall. Jen was standing near the crate of candles, carefully setting the one he’d lit into a candlestick as tall as his chest.   
  
“What is this place?” Jay asked.   
  
“This used to be a church.” Jen gestured at the Corps bags. “Now we use it as a place to hide out, and stash supplies. There’s places like this all over the battle zone, in caves, ruins, whatever. We can camp here.” He dropped his bag of supplies by the others, and resettled his weapons. “Dump your crap, half an hour to rest, and we can go sweep the perimeter.”   
  
The boundary of their territory seemed arbitrary; in some places it followed the broken pieces of old highways, in others it cut across dust distinguished only by bomb craters. Jay followed Jen, letting his Guardian choose their route while he searched their surroundings with his mind. He was becoming more familiar with the traces of psionic energy that lingered in places in the vast, wide battlefield. Echoes of past battles still whispered from below the level of the minds scattered across the plain, tantalisingly faint and elusive. It was as if the long years of war were all around him, infusing the air itself.   
  
The feel of Jen’s hand on the back of his neck broke his reverie, a light touch that sent a shudder through his entire body.   
  
“Focus,” Jen said, then added more softly, “I know it’s hard.”   
  
Jay took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly. “Yeah. Let’s keep moving.”   
  
He kept up his scan for the rest of the circuit, but held himself back, careful not to get lost in the psychic currents of the battlefield again. It felt like a desperate loss.   
  
   
  
  
  
\--   
  
“We’ve got something,” Jay said quietly.   
  
“Where?” Jen scanned the broken terrain around them.   
  
“South. There’s...” Jay made a face. “Lectors. They’ve got a Psion, but I don’t think he noticed me.”   
  
Jen nodded. “Got a location?”   
  
Jay breathed, concentrated. “They’re by the river. They’ve stopped moving, I think they’re making camp.”   
  
“Let’s go.”   
  
As they approached the enemy’s position, Jay carefully shielded his thoughts, hiding his own presence as much as he could. They reached the river upstream from the lectors, and followed its course, letting the sounds of the dark, sluggish water mask any hint of their approach. Jay trod carefully, both for silence’s sake and to avoid any chance of slipping and falling. Open water in the battle zone, he knew, was sure to be extremely toxic.   
  
When he could feel they were close, Jay tapped Jen’s shoulder. Jen nodded and made several hand signals. Jay wrapped a shield around him protectively as Jen pulled grenades from clips at his belt. They advanced until the enemy camp was in sight, and then he threw them in quick succession.   
  
They landed almost simultaneously, on the near and far sides of the camp, and one in the middle. As the explosions ripped into them, Jen drew his guns and moved forward, firing rapidly and accurately. More lectors fell before the enemy Psion gathered himself and began shielding, by which time Jen had closed the distance to the camp. Jay followed.   
  
Jen flicked his guns back into their holsters and drew his swords, slashing at the enemy through the shields. The Psion was slow, perhaps dazed by the explosions, and unprepared for the different kinetic assault. Jay helped, throwing sharp psionic attacks at the point where Jen’s blade struck. Together they ripped through the line of enemy soldiers until they got to the psion.   
  
The enemy shielded hard and fought bitterly, trying to hold them off while the remaining soldiers attempted to take out Jen or Jay. Jay split, forming another self behind the line and dividing the attack even as he started to duel with the psion from both sides. Jen cut the last soldiers down quickly and returned his attention to the psion, cutting, probing at his shields. Jay’s power wrapped around him helped guide his attacks, until -   
  
Finally Jay found an opening, stabbed through it to attack the enemy psion’s mind. His shields faltered for less than half a second, but it was enough. Jen struck, slashing hard and almost cutting the lector in two.   
  
It was over.   
  
Jen wiped his swords on a half-erected enemy tent before turning back to Jay. “Not bad,” was all he said, but Jay could feel his satisfaction and pride.   
  
He looked around at the twenty-odd bodies on the ground. It seemed unreal - they’d taken them all, in minutes at most.   
  
He grinned at his Guardian. Maybe they could do this after all.   
  
\--   
  
As the weeks in the field passed, and they took out several more enemy columns, Jay began to feel easier about it. The battles were quick, every time, and it almost seemed like life in the field was more relaxed. Without the intense training regime, he and Jen passed the time easily, discussing tactics, breaking down everything that had gone wrong and right in each battle; when there was no more to say, they could talk of anything, or nothing. They slept in the basement of the old church, on a bed made of pew cushions, covered with a dusty red velvet drape.   
  
Some things became routine; he got better at keeping himself together when he let his scans go wide, but now and then, he still went out too far, and Jen would rub the back of his neck, skin on skin to let their bond anchor him back into himself.   
  
It seemed strange, but even in the desolate, battle-ravaged wasteland, he was content.   
  
Before dawn, six weeks into their assignment, he was woken by the sense of lector minds moving into range. One was a psion, which meant it was up to them to take it out, rather than call the position for an auxiliary unit to handle.   
  
They ate fast. Jen strapped his armour and weapons into place, and they were climbing out of their refuge and heading for the enemy column.   
  
Jay threw the shields into place cheerfully as they moved to attack, automatically deflecting the soldiers’ attacks away from Jen even as he engaged with the psion. He struck with confidence - the psion felt less powerful than others he had previously defeated.   
  
Jen was moving fast and smooth, taking down the soldiers who were moving with the flow of their own psion’s strikes, trying to get past them both. Jay had learned to keep his shields just barely outside Jen’s armour - it let his Guardian move freely, and still use his armour the way he was used to via the shields, catching and deflecting the enemies’ weapons to his own advantage.   
  
A sudden, slashing strike at his shields, much stronger than he would have thought this psion capable of, ripped through his defences. As that shock ran through his mind and he fought to regain the focus the shields required, he felt plain explode across the link with Jen. He looked back at his Guardian, but Jen was still moving, as fast and sure as ever. More pain hit him through the link, and he saw the movement as an enemy soldier slashed across Jen’s chest. Jen was twisting, deflecting, and in the next movement killed the soldier.   
  
Filled with fury, Jay found the psion again, _splitting_ again to strike at him from all sides. When he tore a gap in the psion’s shields, he didn’t think to strike cleanly. His second double reached through the gap, and with telekinetic strength he hadn’t known he possessed, Jay reached inside the lector’s body and shredded his brain from the inside out.   
  
After that, the battle was over quickly. Jay looked at Jen, wondering if he’d imagined the pain. Jen was standing over the last bodies, surveying the battlefield with a faint frown.   
  
And then he saw the blood, oozing from a rent in the armour across Jen’s chest, and starting to darken his waist where the armour pieces joined. More was dripping from his sleeve, where a bullet had ripped a hole in his shoulderguards.   
  
“Oh, god, Jen...” Jay started.   
  
Jen shook his head, and raised his radio. “We need cover in sector seven,” he said calmly. “Wounded Guardian, we’re coming back to base.” He listened for the acknowledgement, then clipped it back onto his belt. “Let’s get back.”   
  
Closing his eyes, Jay wrapped a new shield around Jen, this time putting pressure against his wounds to stem the bleeding as much as he could. “Okay.”   
  
It was almost dusk when they staggered into base. They’d had to dodge two enemy columns on the way, and Jen had grown weak from loss of blood. His uninjured arm was across Jay’s shoulders, the Psion taking most of his weight by the time they got close.   
  
They’d made it. Jen would live.   
  
\--   
  
“Shut up, Jay, I told you it’s not that bad,” Jen said, adjusting his sling as they entered the mess hall. “I’ve had worse from training.”   
  
“That doesn’t make me feel much better,” Jay replied. “And this was _my fault_ , I should have seen -”   
  
“Dammit, Jay!” Jen glared at him. “You want to make it up to me? I’m going to get a table. Get your bitch ass in line, get us some food. With vegetables. And pie. I want pie.”   
  
“Okay, but -”   
  
“Jay.” Jen’s voice dropped to a growl. “Food. Pie. Now.” He started moving towards one of the tables.   
  
Jay exhaled and got in the line for food. “That looked somewhat fraught,” Ian said, coming up behind him.   
  
“It’s my fault Jen got hurt,” Jay said.   
  
“What, you shot him?” Ian enquired mildly.   
  
“Of course not, but -”   
  
“Stabbed him?”   
  
“No, a lector psion got past my shields.” The admission tasted sour.   
  
“It happens,” Ian shrugged.   
  
“That’s what Jen said, but -”   
  
“He was right.” Ian cut him off. “It’s a war. We get hurt. You survived, and he’ll recover. Be glad.” He paused. “And get the man his pie.”   
\--   
  
Jay exhaled in the darkness. He couldn’t sleep, and even though he knew Jen was awake, he didn’t want to disturb him more than he had to. He could feel that Jen was still in pain, even if he didn’t acknowledge it. Pain that Jay knew was his fault.   
  
He sighed.   
  
“Seriously, man.” Jen’s voice was quiet. “What’s the problem?”   
  
Jay hesitated.   
  
“ _Jay_.”   
  
“Okay.” Jay sighed. “I fucked up and you got hurt, Jen. I can’t stand that.”   
  
“How exactly did you fuck up?”   
  
“I got overconfident. I didn’t think that lector could hit me so hard.”   
  
“Okay.” Jen tugged him over and wrapped his arms around him carefully. “Listen carefully, because I’m only going to say this once.” He rubbed the back of Jay’s neck lightly. “This is a war. People get hurt. Sometimes you can prevent it. If you make a mistake, you just need to learn from it, that’s all.” He paused. “Now go to sleep already.”   
  
\--   
  
Nearly two months back in the field, and Jay was strung out on nerves, exhausted and twitchy. He’d seen what could happen if he slipped, so he now concentrated on staying alert all the time, never underestimating an enemy, never letting the slightest gap in his defences, always ready for anything. Their battles had gone flawlessly, but the constant vigilance was exhausting.  
  
He was starting to zone out more easily, too - out of combat, scanning, it was harder to maintain the balance that let him keep from getting lost in the kaleidoscopic play of energies that were superimposed on the battlefield when he let his awareness extend into their surroundings. Jen was good at picking up on it, would be there beside him to bring him out of it. He’d rub the back of Jay’s neck, or run his fingers through his hair, gently calling him back to his body.  
  
The problem was, it was starting to make him aware of his body in ways that seemed inappropriate and awkward.  
  
He _wanted_ Jen. It was more than the bond, and more than just lust. He’d seen the beauty in the way Jen moved, the muscular grace. He’d known that Jen was just damn _pretty_ , even if Jen, dangerous and damaged as the war had made him, didn’t ever seem to know or use it.  
  
But that really wasn’t it. If he had just wanted sex... well, people on base had offered. But it was Jen he found himself wanting, and the wanting got worse and harder to hide every day, it seemed, especially in the field where they were never apart. It was hard to sleep lying on a blanket in a chilly cave, Jen in his personal space, warm and solid and there, and always awake, because unless he was drugged in the hospital, Jen didn’t sleep if Jay didn’t.   
  
And the _big_ problem was that he could read Jen’s mind, and while Jen liked him, seemed comfortable with the bond and everything it entailed, there was no sign that he felt the same way. Jay wasn’t so much of an asshole that he would make things awkward by bringing it up or god forbid make Jen feel like he was obligated to sleep with Jay, just because they were bonded. He was just desperate for their relief to arrive, to go back to base and have food that wasn’t ration packs, time and space and _privacy_ to unwind, and respite from the unrelenting pressure of keeping alert.  
  
They were picking up fresh supplies at a hidden cache. A “D” was scratched into the cardboard of the top box stacked in a small cave behind a crevice in rock that Jay wouldn’t have known was at all remarkable.  
  
“What’s the D for?” he asked Jen.  
  
“Dex. He dropped these. Just saying hi.” Jen pulled out a knife and slid it across the tape holding the box closed.  
  
“That -” Jay paused as something brushed across his mind.  
  
Jen noticed, and drew his weapons, going to the cave entrance. “How many?” he asked softly.  
  
The contact came again, stronger, and Jay smiled. “No, it’s okay,” he said happily. “It’s Morenna. She and Malcolm are here to relieve us.”  
  
Jen grunted. “About time.”   
  
\--   
  
“Jesus _Christ_ ,” a Guardian-cadet muttered, staggering out of the training hall. “What the _fuck_ is wrong with him?”   
  
“Problem, Spencer?” Dex asked, stopping. He’d been on his way to the barracks, but if there was someone needed sorting out in the training hall, Dex would make sure it happened.   
  
“Man,” Spencer said, “Jen has officially snapped. Anyone who crosses swords in there is getting the shit kicked out of them.”   
  
“I take it you mean more than normal,” Dex said, smirking a little.   
  
“ _Fuck_ yes I mean more than normal,” Spencer said. “He almost broke my fucking arm!”   
  
Dex raised an eyebrow, and headed in - and immediately ducked to the side as another Guardian - this one fully graduated - stumbled backwards and slammed into the wall next to him.   
  
Jen was standing in the middle of the largest mat, a Guardian-cadet and two PAC soldiers still encircling him. He had a practice sword in each hand, and as Dex watched, suddenly exploded in a blur of motion as the Guardian made a move forward, which ended with the Guardian flat on his back on the mat and Jen already backed off and facing the soldiers.   
  
Dex cracked his neck and drew steel, making sure to rasp his blade out of the sheath. “Jen.”  
  
Jen turned, nodded, and tossed the practice swords aside, the two Auxiliaries nodding to Dex and moving hastily off the mat. Jen drew his own blade, Dex stepping forward, and they circled.  
  
Dex was no Psion, but he could tell Jen was angry, could see it behind the focus in his eyes, in the slight jerk to his motions. So he made the first move, striking out with a lunge that engaged Jen’s blade and followed up with a spin, planting his elbow solidly in Jen’s side. Dex was expecting Jen to block, had seen him do so in a hundred sparring matches, but Jen took the hit with nothing but a short breath out and slammed back into Dex, the soldier stumbling back several paces.  
  
Dex cracked his neck again, hefting his sword. “You wanna lose the steel?”  
  
Jen almost slammed his sword back into the sheath, Dex following suit, although a little more gently, and they circled again. Dex feinted forward and then away, drawing Jen out, and the Guardian lunged forward into the gap, unleashing a series of punches that had Dex dancing aside across the mat. Jen was fighting well, but Dex could tell his technique was slipping a little, fuelled more by fury than precision.  
  
Dex sidestepped and lunged forward, getting in a solid punch to Jen’s midsection before darting backwards, Jen following him every step to put his fist into Dex’s solar plexus. Dex twisted at the last second, trapping Jen’s arm and twisting, but he was agile enough to roll with the lock, kicking out one of Dex’s legs on the way down. Dex stumbled, off balance, and Jen wrenched his arm free before he hit the ground and rolled, coming back to his feet several paces away.  
  
They circled again, Dex a little more calculating, and this time he waited for Jen to lunge first, coming around his fist and sweeping his legs out from under him. Jen dropped, fist clenched in the front of Dex’s uniform, and Dex had little choice but to follow, making sure he landed in a way to pin Jen bodily to the floor.  
  
Jen thumped his head backwards into the mat, and Dex smirked a little. “What’s the problem?” he asked softly, aware that while the others in the hall had resumed their own training, their conversation, if loud, could still be overheard.  
  
“Colonel Morgan isn’t rotating us back off the front,” Jen said. “Jay hasn’t been sleeping well, we need the downtime, and our orders are to ship out in a week.”  
  
“Asshole,” Dex muttered. “He have a good reason?”  
  
Jen half-shrugged. “Sort of.”  
  
“Just not a reason you like very much.”  
  
“He’s my _Psion_ ,” Jen said.  
  
“Yeah,” Dex said, “and you’ll be with him every second you’re out there. Colonel Morgan’s an asshole, but he’s not an idiot. If you’re not getting downtime, there’s a reason.”  
  
Jen sighed, closing his eyes a second. “I guess.”  
  
Dex eased back to his feet, extending a hand. “Come on,” he said, hauling Jen to his feet. “And stop killing my soldiers, or I’ll beat your punk-ass into the ground. Again.”  
  
Jen’s mouth twitched, grimness fading from his expression. “I’d like to see you try,” he said, setting into a guard.  
  
Dex grinned outright. “You’re on.”  
  
\--  
  
Jay drowsed, luxuriating in the feel of a warm, soft bed in the safety of the base. He didn’t have to scan for enemies, he didn’t have to do anything at all.  
  
He soaked in the deep comfort, half asleep wrapped in Jen’s arms. He could feel Jen’s fingers stroking gently through his hair, the quiet sense of love and aching longing for him that suffused Jen’s mind.  
  
Then he realised what he was sensing, and only battle-trained reflexes at controlling himself, body and mind, kept him from jerking alert and letting Jen realise he was awake.  
  
Jen wanted him. That was new... or was it? Jen always knew he was awake - had he just been keeping this from him?  
  
Too much. He felt Jen sense he was coming awake, felt him shut away his feelings and present the bland, vaguely affectionate reactions he was accustomed to.  
  
“Morning,” Jen drawled. “Hurry up, we’re going to be late for breakfast.”  
  
\--  
  
Daria, sensing his agitation, pulled him aside after breakfast, taking him to an unoccupied room and closing the door.  
  
“What’s going on, Jay?” she asked. “I’ve never known you to be so worked up when the food wasn’t late.”  
  
“I...” Jay exhaled in frustration. “I just found out this morning what an _annoying jerk_ Jen is.”  
  
“Uh... okay...” Daria blinked. “In... in what way?”  
  
“That _fu_ -” He paused. “That _not_ -fucker. He keeps doing this thing, where he touches me, and he does it all the time, and it’s driving me crazy, because he’s all sexy and I’m in love with him, and the worst part is?” He pointed furiously at the wall in Jen’s direction. “He’s in love with me too! And he wants me!”  
  
Daria stared for a long moment. “I... wait. He’s in love with you and this is a problem because...?”  
  
“Because he’s hiding it! Unless I’m asleep he blocks it out, because he’s some kind of freak who can do that!”  
  
Daria took his hand and patted it. “Okay, crazy person,” she said gently. “I have a suggestion. It’s a bit complicated, so I want you to listen very carefully, okay?”  
  
“Okay.”  
  
“Jump his bones.”  
  
Jay stared. “Why didn’t I think of that?”  
  
By evening he’d concocted a plan. He let Jen shower first, then took his time with his own until he could feel Jen starting to relax. Jen wouldn’t, of his own accord, ever sleep before Jay did, but if Jay was careful and good...  
  
He pushed gently on his Guardian’s mind, easing into it the way he had when Jen was injured and he’d done this to ease his pain and soothe him to healing sleep. This time, Jen wasn’t in pain, but Jay could still tip him from relaxation into sleep.  
  
There.  
  
Time to move.


	5. Chapter 5

Jen woke up slumped awkwardly in a chair. His shoulders felt tight, constricted, and it wasn’t until he tried to move his arms to ease the tension and discovered he couldn’t that he realised he was tied down. His eyes flew open as he twisted his wrists around, feeling the cold bite of metal.  
  
“Easy now,” Jay said softly from behind him, and he relaxed fractionally.  
  
“Jay?” He twisted his head, but couldn’t see far enough around to catch a glimpse of his Psion. “Jay, what’s going on?”  
  
“You work so hard to take care of me,” Jay said, and a finger trailed lightly across Jen’s shoulders, catching slightly on the rough material of his shirt. “We wanted to show our appreciation.”  
  
“We?” Jen asked, and then the familiar hum of Jay’s power washed over him. “Jay, what are you doing?”  
  
“Saying thank you,” Jay said, pacing around in front of him. “Thank you for looking after me.”  
  
“Jay-”  
  
And then another set of hands landed on his shoulders, and a mouth breathed out warm against his ear. “Thank you.”  
  
If he weren’t so familiar with Jay’s voice, wasn’t used to staking his life on his ability to know whether the person at his back was his Psion or not, Jen would have said that the person behind him wasn’t Jay - especially since his Psion was standing right in front of him. But since he was-  
  
He tilted his head back, meeting the amused and slightly translucent eyes of the Jay leaning over him. “Shouldn’t you be resting?”  
  
“Jen,” and it was the Jay in front of him speaking now, and he snapped his eyes forward to see the man closer to him, now, standing in the V between his legs but not close enough, not close enough by far. “Jen, don’t worry about me. This is about you.”  
  
His face heated, and the corner of Jay’s mouth quirked up. “Oh wow, you’re blushing.”  
  
“Shut up,” Jen said, trying without success to quash the image that had flitted quickly across his mind, and the Jay behind him laughed.  
  
“Don’t worry,” he said, dropping his vocal register into a purr. “We’ll get there.”  
  
“Jay-”  
  
“You know, I can think of far more interesting ways to make you say my name than protesting,” Jay said, his hands going to his shirt buttons.  
  
Jen swallowed, and then shivered as lips brushed the back of his neck. “Jay.”  
  
“That’s better,” Jay said, flicking the last button open and shrugging the shirt off his shoulders. It slid to the floor, Jay taking a pace closer. “What do you want, Jen?”  
  
Behind him, Jay pressed one last kiss to his neck and stood with a rustle of fabric. “I can guess, if you don’t feel like talking.” He walked around to join the first Jay, and translucent or not, there were still two of him standing in front of Jen now, two of him looking right at him with identical expressions.  
  
He swallowed, shifting in the chair, and their grins turned into smirks. “Okay, then,” the shirtless Jay said. “I guess we’re guessing.”  
  
The double fingered his translucent shirt, and then Jay closed his eyes and everything wavered for a second, before the shirt vanished. “Much better,” he said, and then the double grabbed the back of his neck and yanked him in for a kiss.  
  
Jen’s fingers clenched as he watched, watched Jay kissing Jay. Translucent fingers wandered over tanned skin, grabbing Jay’s belt and yanking him closer, and Jay let out a moan that shivered over Jen’s skin.  
  
Jen forced his fingers to relax and breathed out a ragged breath, but it was loud enough that Jay heard. They pulled apart, flushed, and turned to regard him.  
  
“Don’t worry, you’ll get your turn,” Jay said, and then the double dropped smoothly to his knees, fingers going to Jay’s belt. He made short work of the buckle and zip, yanking the pants down. Jay stepped out of them, and Jen’s breath caught. Jay turned his head, smiling. “Just stop thinking,” he said, and then he threw his head back with a ragged gasp as the double grabbed his hips and licked a stripe up the side of his cock.  
  
Jen yanked his hands against the cuffs once, breathing heavy and uneven. He shifted in the chair, but his pants were constricting in all the wrong ways and none of his movements gave him friction where he wanted it. All he could do was watch what Jay was showing him. He had his hands wound in his double’s hair, now, cock hard and shiny with spit as the other him moved back and forth.  
  
He wanted - he needed - more. “Jay-”  
  
The double pulled off slowly, tongue swirling over the head one last time, and Jay shivered, taking a moment to pull himself together a little. His eyes, when he finally turned his head to regard Jen, were dark, pupils blown wide with pleasure. “Jen.”  
  
“Jay, I- please.” He rattled the cuffs against the chair. “Please.”  
  
Jay took a step towards him, the double’s fingers sliding from his hips, and stopped. “What do you want, Jen?”  
  
Jen swallowed, fingers clenched in the handcuff chain. He wanted to press Jay into the sheets of their tiny bed and learn every inch of him with fingers and tongue. He wanted Jay to know him, inside and out, show him all the parts of himself, the secrets he kept deeply buried. He wanted to touch Jay and never stop touching. He wanted everything, and the sudden surge of /want/ crawled up his throat and choked his tongue. “I-”  
  
Jay smiled softly. “What do you want?”  
  
And suddenly, looking at his Psion, standing naked and smiling before him, the answer was easy. He didn’t always want this, but that it should end here, in this way, suddenly seemed inevitable. “You,” he said. “I want you.”  
  
Jay’s smile turned brilliant, and then there were two clicks from behind him, and the handcuffs fell to the floor in a jangle of metal. Jen didn’t waste any time, whipping a hand forward to run his fingertips lightly up Jay’s torso. He curled his fingers through Jay’s dogtags, tugging downwards, and Jay obediently bent.  
  
Jay’s lips were soft against his, and he pulled back after a moment. He opened his mouth to speak, and Jay shook his head. “Jen,” he said, “stop thinking,” and then he dipped his head and claimed Jen’s mouth.  
  
Jay inched into his mouth with soft licks, tangling their tongues together, and Jen reached out blindly with his free hand, catching Jay’s hip and yanking him closer. Jay stumbled forward without breaking the kiss, and suddenly Jen had a lapful of naked Psion. Jay shifted slightly against him, and Jen gasped into the kiss, pressure suddenly right where he wanted it.  
  
“You’re wearing too many clothes,” Jay murmured against his lips, and then hands snaked around his body from behind, the second, forgotten Jay quickly and neatly unbuttoning his shirt.  
  
“You’re the one who cuffed me to a chair,” Jen retorted, and then broke off into ragged breathing as a hand drifted across his chest and tweaked one of his nipples.  
  
“If you can still think, I’m doing this all wrong,” Jay said, smiling again, and ducked his head to nip at Jen’s collarbone.  
  
“I-” Jen said, swallowing, and then a second translucent hand joined the first on his chest and Jay slid down off his lap, hands going to Jen’s belt.  
  
And then he paused. “Jen. I- I want to make sure-”  
  
Jen shook his head, steadying his breathing like it’s just another training exercise, although not even the control he’d practised for so long can still the tingle of nerves in his gut. “You seemed pretty sure a minute ago.”  
  
Jay looked sideways. “You seemed pretty sure a minute ago, too.”  
  
Jen frowned slightly. “Are you reading my emotions again?”  
  
“Maybe.” Jay’s face coloured slightly, and he looked uncertain for the first time since Jen woke. “You’ve never minded before.”  
  
“I,” Jen said. He reached out a hand, turned Jay’s face towards him, met his eyes. “If you stop now,” he said, “I’m going to kill you.”  
  
Jay nodded. “Fair enough,” he said, and then he broke into another smile, uncertainty gone. He unbuckled Jen’s belt, popping the button and sliding the zipper down, and slipped his fingers under the band of Jen’s briefs.  
  
He closed his hand around Jen’s cock at the same moment as the other Jay started moving his fingers again, pinching gently at his nipples, and Jen gasped soundlessly, arching off the chair. Jay’s hand felt similar to his own and yet at the same time completely different. I’ve never- he thought, and then blanked on the rest of the sentence as Jay squeezed his hand slightly and slid it down.  
  
“Jen,” the Jay behind him whispered, mouth pressed up against his ear. “It’s okay, I got you-” and then Jay dipped his head and swiped his tongue over the head of Jen’s cock.  
  
Jen couldn’t help the noise that came out of his throat then, more a moan than a gasp, strangled almost before it sounded. His head went back without conscious control, and for a moment he hated that this was happening, that his body was acting without direction. Then Jay did it again, and again, and as he gasped, sensation tingling through his body from his groin, he realised that he’d been wrong. His body was acting on Jay’s direction, and he’d been doing that a long time now, just in other ways.  
  
Jay swirled his tongue around and down, his hands shifting to run back, light fingers tracing patterns over his balls as other fingers flicked nipples almost sore with sensation, and Jen honest-to-God groaned. His fingers whitened on the arms of the chair as he grasped for control, trying to order scattered thoughts. He didn’t know it would feel this good.  
  
Jay paused, drawing back a moment, puffs of air tingling over damp skin, and Jen swallowed hard, lifting his head and looking down. It took him a second to place the expression on Jay’s face, because it was hunger, but it wasn’t hunger like Jen’d seen on Jay before. “Jen,” Jay said. “Tell me what you want.”  
  
_Anything_ , Jen thought, still getting his breath back. “Jay, I-”  
  
“I don’t want to do anything you’re not comfortable with,” Jay said. “If it’s your-”  
  
He trailed off, and Jen nodded, face reddening under Jay’s steady gaze. “It’s okay,” Jay said, fingers moving in what were probably meant to be soothing circles on Jen’s thighs, but were anything but.  
  
“I,” Jen said, and swallowed, turning his face away. “I just want you. Only you. It’s a bit-”  
  
“I get it,” Jay said, and then his power hummed and the hands on Jen’s shoulders disappeared. “It’s just you and me, Jen. It’ll always be you and me.”  
  
Jen nodded jerkily, still looking away, and felt pressure on his legs as Jay hoisted himself up. “Come on,” he said, holding out a hand. “Come to bed with me.”  
  
Jen looked up past the waiting fingers to Jay, cataloguing emotions on his face. He’d never be able to read Jay’s emotions like Jay could read his, but he’d learnt, over the weeks and months. The hunger was still there, eyes dark with it, but it was being crowded out by understanding and tenderness. Jen looked down and grabbed Jay’s hand, letting himself be hauled to his feet, because he didn’t want to analyse the last emotion, couldn’t accept that it was there for him. It shouldn’t be there for him, because inside he was fractured. He wasn’t-  
  
And then Jay’s hands were on his shoulders, and his Psion shook him. Jen shivered, attention immediately snapping back to Jay’s face. “It’s for you,” Jay said. “It’s always been for you.”  
  
“I don’t-” _deserve_ , he was going to say, but Jay shook his head.  
  
“That’s bullshit,” Jay said before he could voice the thought. “You deserve a lot more.”  
  
His hands on Jen’s shoulders were warm, solid, and then he was holding Jen close. His eyelashes brushed Jen’s cheek as he leant in. “Let me show you,” he whispered.  
  
Jen tucked his head in Jay’s neck, breathing in his scent. Slowly he relaxed against him, Jay taking his weight with ease. “Okay,” he whispered finally.  
  
Jay let out a breath. “Good,” he said, “‘cause I really didn’t wanna stop.”  
  
\--  
  
Jay suppressed a yawn as he entered the mess hall. He suspected he wasn’t fully recovered from their last mission, as one night with very little sleep had him very tired today.  
  
He smiled to himself. It was worth it.  
  
After collecting his food, he took the seat beside Daria. “Hey,” he greeted her, and felt a quick rush of surprise and affection tinged with... envy? as she identified him.  
  
“Good morning, Jay,” she said warmly, and hugged him. “I take it you met with success.”  
  
“Yeah,” he said, smiling. “It went great.”  
  
“We noticed,” Christopher put in sourly, as he took the seat opposite Daria. He was shielding tightly.  
  
“Your shields were a little... erratic last night,” Daria whispered.  
  
Jay blinked, and realised what she meant. “Oh, that.” He tried to keep the smugness out of his smile, and suspected he failed.  
  
“Yes, ‘that’,” Ian mimicked. “Not that I wish to suggest I don’t embrace the glory of non-violent physicality, so to speak, but... a little quieter next time, if you please.”  
  
“How can you possibly be a graduated Psion when you haven’t even learned to shield properly?” Christopher sniped, at the same time as Jay felt Jen approaching from the counters. His Guardian dropped into the seat beside him and wordlessly placed a small bowl of cereal and a container of juice next to the stack of syrup-laden waffles Jay had chosen for breakfast.  
  
“Don’t be silly, Christopher. I rather liked it.” Daria smiled wickedly.  
  
“What’s this about?” Jen asked.  
  
“It seems I lost control of my shields last night,” Jay answered. “I can’t think why.” He grinned at Jen.  
  
Jen blinked, and then his lips twitched into a slight, but clearly satisfied smirk. “It’s a mystery,” he said blandly.  
  
As Daria laughed delightedly, Christopher looked from one to the other and scowled.  
  
\--  
  
The enemy incursion siren jarred them out of sound sleep. “What the fuck -” Jay heard Jen mutter, as he scrambled for weapons.  
  
“Here.” Jay scooped up their pants from the floor and tossed one pair to Jen, who yanked them on and fastened his weapon belts over them. Jay noticed that the pants he himself pulled on were loose around his hips and too short for his legs, but by then Jen was already by the door, peering out.  
  
“Clear here, let’s move,” Jen said, and slid out into the corridor.  
  
Out in the compound it was an ordered chaos, as auxiliaries took defensive positions and the Field Pairs at the base ran to Colonel Morgan for assignments. Jen and Jay were told to guard the approach lines from the iris.  
  
A tense silence settled when everyone was in position, and then General Pasdar’s voice came over the loudspeakers. “Satisfactory,” he said. “Drill complete, all personnel are dismissed.”  
  
There were loud groans and some swearing around them, as people began to file back to their quarters. Jay could feel the mingled irritation and relief from Jen as he started walking back to their room, but found his own annoyance fading as he was distracted. They’d accidentally traded pants when they’d dressed hurriedly in the dark. Jen had thicker hips than he did, and the fabric was straining taut across his ass. The lights of the compound cast interesting shadows over the skin of his back, bare but for the crossed strapping of his weapon harnesses.  
  
Back in their room, he watched, absorbed, as Jen put his weapons away with neat precision.  
  
“We should get some sleep,” Jen said as he turned to face Jay, and stopped. “What?”  
  
“Hm?” Jay’s gaze drifted over the planes of Jen’s body as his muscles shifted, dimly visible in the darkened room. He was uncomfortably hard in Jen’s ill-fitting pants. He could feel understanding dawn in Jen’s mind, tinged with bemusement, and a distinct, rising interest as Jen closed the distance between them, sliding into his personal space and pressing warm against him, sliding one hand behind Jay’s neck to draw him down into a kiss.  
  
Sleep could wait.  
  
\--  
  
Jay huffed a sigh of frustration. “Sorry Jen,” he muttered, lifting a hand to rub against his burning eyes. “I just, I can’t-”  
  
“You’re worried about Malcolm and Morenna,” Jen said, without opening his eyes or moving at all from where he lay sprawled across Jay.  
  
“Yeah,” Jay said. “Sorry.”  
  
“They’re fine,” Jen said. “They’ll check in tomorrow and they’ll be fine.”  
  
“You don’t know that,” Jay sighed, letting his hand flop back to the mattress. “They’re way overdue to check in, and no-one can-”  
  
“Don’t even think about checking,” Jen said. “You are meant to be _resting_.”  
  
“I wasn’t-” Jay protested, then sighed. “Fine, okay, I won’t.”  
  
“Anyone would think you hadn’t been carried back into base yesterday,” Jen muttered. “Sleep, Jay.”  
  
“I’ve _tried_ ,” Jay muttered. “I’ve been lying here for _hours_ and I just keep going round and round in circles-”  
  
Jen lifted his head, resting his chin on Jay’s chest. “Jay.”  
  
“What?” Jay snapped. “Sorry.”  
  
“Aren’t you meant to be good at _disciplining_ your thoughts? Psion training and all that.”  
  
“Oh, _fuck you_ , Jen-”  
  
Jen shifted over faster than Jay’s tired eyes could track, and suddenly he was much more than just a warm blanket, pressing him down into the mattress with intent. Hazel eyes stared steadily into his.  
  
“Jay.”  
  
“What.”  
  
“Shut up.”  
  
Jen suited actions to words, and crushed their mouths together. Jay let his eyes close, opened his mouth and let Jen have control, let him distract him from his friends, alone and cut off in enemy territory.  
  
Jen broke the kiss, catching his breath with his forehead pressed to Jay’s. “Stop thinking, moron,” he said, and Jay blinked open his eyes. In private, Jen’s face was less emotionless than normal, and so Jay didn’t need their link to see Jen’s worry and concern.  
  
“Sorry,” he said, “sorry-” and then broke off in a gasp as Jen’s hand slid under his waistband.  
  
Jen shifted his weight and closed his hand around Jay’s cock, and Jay let his head fall back and did his best to blank his mind of everything else. It wasn’t that hard after all when Jen started gently stroking him, dropping his head to mouth at Jay’s collarbone.  
  
Jay closed his eyes, Jen shifting again above him, so it was a surprise when Jen’s teeth close on one of his nipples in time with a tighter stroke from his hand. His next breath was shaky, and Jen made a tiny sound of satisfaction.  
  
“Come on, Jay,” he said, and his voice now was tender, the emotion behind it mixing with the emotions Jay could feel without trying, affection and love and lust all swirling together. “Just let it go.”  
  
\--  
  
These days it seemed like the terrain in the battle zone changed almost to the point of unrecognisability if they hadn’t passed through a sector in the last few days. The battles were bigger and heavier, and more frequent all the time, and the sound of artillery grew nearer or further, but almost never stopped entirely. Their first few weeks out, this time, were busy - incursions into their sector happened often, and they answered several calls for backup from adjacent Field Pairs and auxiliary squadrons. The weather had been dry, and the air above the plain of the battlefield swirled with smoke and ash and dust. The grit crept into their clothing, mixing uncomfortably with their sweat.  
  
And then it started.  
  
It began with two columns entering their sector at once, with scouts fanned out around them. It was a tricky fight, but they won; it was only when they began heading back towards their hideout and found the trail of another force that had somehow bypassed them that things began to look sour.  
  
They ran to chase it down and discovered the enemy had worked out a new trick. The two columns had been a blind, sacrificed to engage the defending Psion and allow another, shielding the forces it accompanied enough to be unnoticed by a combat-distracted Psion, to bypass the defensive line. They had to attack on the run, a tough fight against a lector Psion who seemed to be one of the best Jay had ever fought.  
  
“Shit, Jen.” Jay scanned the horizon. “There might be more.”  
  
“Yeah. Let’s -” Jen fell silent as the radio came to life.  
  
“- enemy penetration in an unknown number of sectors. Shield under direct assault at pylons eight through twelve. Unknown number of Field Pairs out of contact...”  
  
They started running.  
  
The ground near the pylons was littered with bodies, their own forces and the enemy’s. Jen and Jay joined in the fray, cutting down the numbers as more forces from both sides approached. Jay split, and again, helping shield their soldiers and cut off the lectors from encircling some of the squads still fighting hard.  
  
He wasn’t sure how long the battle had been raging when the pylon blew. A detonation of psychic energy rattled him hard even as the scream of tortured metal filled his ears.  
  
Without thinking, he split twice more, vision blurring across all his selves as he struggled to maintain a sense of himself across so many. He stood the newest projections across the gap in the shield and ran his physical body into the middle of it, throwing his arms out wide and letting the wild, loose power from the pylons on either side arc from psionic body to body, forming a bridge to hold the shield in place.  
  
As the power hit him, the world went white.  
  
\--  
  
Jen saw Jay move, saw and felt the power surge through him, echoing on the link between them.  
  
This couldn’t be good.  
  
The reinforcements were finally arriving, from the base and from the nearby sectors. Jen grabbed his radio. “This is Jen to all units. Get between them and the shield and push back.” He scanned the chaotic battle, and realised why no-one was giving orders worth a damn when he saw Captain Waugh’s body lying broken and bleeding on the ground. Where the fuck was the chain of command?  
  
“Squads three, four, seven, cut around from the west,” he snapped into the radio. “Everyone else, from the east. Slide along the shield, they can’t get closer to that than you can. All Field Pairs, go to the side that’s nearest, back them up. Do it clean. Do it now.”  
  
A measure of order began to return to their forces. Jen closed the gap between himself and Jay, standing by his Psion and cutting down the lectors still trying to approach. Jay’s body was outlined in a coruscating glow that did nothing for Jen’s peace of mind.  
  
Finally the Corps forces joined ranks and began pushing back, driving the enemy away from the shield. More reinforcements were running in.  
  
“We’ve got it, Jay, you can stop,” Jen said urgently, turning to face him.  
  
Jay didn’t appear to hear him.  
  
“Tell the generator crew to drop the goddamn link and let him go!” he shouted into his radio. There was only static for an answer.  
  
Time to see what a living psychic deadzone could do.  
  
Jen threw himself bodily at the shield. The light was thick as tar to the touch, and painfully hot on his skin. Grimly, Jen pushed through. His reach grew closer and closer until his outstretched fingers at last made contact with the bare skin of Jay’s cheek.  
  
The shock rippled across him, the power breaking over him like a wave over rock. The light flared and died, and Jay dropped.  
  
\--  
  
The rippling beat of distant artillery was the first thing he could hear, thundering in his head much louder than it should. He forced his eyes open, the world painted in tones of ash and the dull red glow of the flames. He could taste blood on the back of his tongue, and bile rose in his throat as he twisted in the choking dust, dragging himself to his hands and knees.  
  
“-on Jay,” Jen was saying, low voice cutting through the noise in his head. He was crouching over him, hand carefully light on his shoulder. “Come on. We’ve gotta move, man. Get back to base.”  
  
Jay coughed, spitting blood into the dirt beneath his palms. It took most of his energy to clear his throat, and he leant into Jen’s body, strength fading. “I can’t,” he rasped. “I’m not-”  
  
“Shut up,” Jen hissed. “Don’t you dare say you’re not gonna make it. Don’t you _fucking_ dare.” He shifted on the gravel, dragging Jay’s arms to pull him up and crouched under him. “We’re moving, now.”  
  
He straightened, lifting Jay across his shoulders, and took a few careful steps. “We can do this, and when we get back I’m going to kick your bitch ass for this.”  
  
A ghost of a smile tugged at Jay’s lips, Jen’s concern and fear sharp behind his facade, and then the outside world crashed through his wavering shields and he was overwhelmed, everything fading away.  
  
He came to in dim light and cool sheets. He could smell disinfectant and bleach, and somewhere over to the side was the soft, regular beep of his heart. The weight on his mind was eased somewhat by the heavy shielding on the infirmary, but even so he could still hear the sounds of artillery, almost as regular as the heart monitor.  
  
It took a second to process the noise outside his door as voices, but once he registered that it was Jen talking, fervent and intense, he tried to concentrate, focus through the haze in his mind.  
  
“-shield broke at the ninth pylon and it took four of him to hold the breach. It almost killed him,” Jen was saying. “He can’t fight, sir. He can’t. We need a break.”  
  
“I wish I could give you both leave, Lieutenant, but with this latest assault… we lost more people than we could afford, today.” Without empathic help it took Jay a moment to recognize the other speaker was General Pasdar, smooth voice pitched in tones of regret. In contrast, anger and fear were radiating in waves from beneath Jen’s tight self-control. “There’s just no way we can get by without his abilities. He’s young - he’ll recover. I have every confidence you’ll keep him safe and strong. You’re the best Guardian in the Corps.”  
  
“Sir-”  
  
“Dismissed, Lieutenant. I have more to do today. So do you.”  
  
“Yes, sir,” Jen said, voice bitter, but his movements were noiselessly careful as he slipped into Jay’s room.  
  
“Hey,” Jay said softly, words almost catching in his dry throat.  
  
“You’re awake?” Jen’s relief washed cool across Jay’s mind. “About damn time, Jay, I thought you were gonna sleep for a week.” His tone was acid but his touch was gentle as he brushed his fingers over Jay’s cheek. “How are you feeling?”  
  
“Tired,” Jay admitted. “And thirsty.” He turned his head enough to kiss Jen’s palm, breathing in the tang of blood and battlefield that still clung to his skin. “I heard you talking to General Pasdar.”  
  
The mattress beneath him dipped as Jen sat on the edge of the bed, sighing out a long breath. “You need a break,” Jen said. “Here.”  
  
Jay opened his mouth for the straw, sucking gratefully on the water, cool against his parched throat. He nodded when he was done, Jen putting the water back on the side table.  
  
“I’ll be fine,” Jay said, hand shaking as he reached up to clasp Jen’s shoulder reassuringly. He hoped Jen hadn’t noticed, but suspected from the fresh sense of worry twisting at the edges of his awareness that he had. “What did the General mean, about losing people?”  
  
Jen hesitated, just for a moment, before he answered. “The breach at the ninth wasn’t the only place the shields fell. The backlash could have been worse, but one of the generator Psions took the brunt, saved the others. She was - we’re going to be weaker until she can be replaced.” His voice was careful, but Jay could sense deep regret beneath, and a thin trail of grief.  
  
“Who was it?” Jay asked. For Jen to feel grief, then, but surely-  
  
“Ellen,” Jen said gently, and Jay could only stare for a second, brain still numb. Then he processed - _Ellen_ \- and it felt like a blow, and for a moment he couldn’t breathe, reeling.  
  
Jen covered the hand on his shoulder with his own. “Hey,” he said. “Jay.”  
  
Jay squeezed his eyes closed, but when he opened them he was still in the infirmary, and Jen was still next to him, which meant Ellen was still dead. “I’m - I’m okay,” he said, because he needed to be strong, he could be strong. So many people had died already in the war, he just hadn’t expected Ellen - safe behind shields, in the generator room with her companion - her _companion_. “Alona-” he said, and Jen shook his head, expression tight.  
  
“She’s alive,” he said, but Jay could feel the emotions swirling underneath, that Jen would rather she wasn’t. “She’s in a coma. They managed to stabilize her, but-” He broke off, shrugging, and Jay nodded. Only General Pasdar had had the will to survive the death of his Psion, and it was likely that Alona would never wake up.  
  
“I should go see her,” Jay said, and Jen shook his head tightly.  
  
“She’s not there, Jay,” he said gently. “And you need to rest, because that bastard is going to send us out again as soon as you can crawl out of bed. You need to get better, Jay, seriously.”  
  
“But-”  
  
“Don’t even,” Jen said, glaring, but the rush of hidden concern Jay felt behind it, and the warmth of Jen’s hand on his own took the sting out of it. He relaxed into the pillow, letting his hand drop to his side.  
  
“Good,” Jen said, standing. “Get some sleep. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”  
  
Jay nodded, closing his eyes and shifting around a bit to get comfortable. Jen kissed his forehead, the rush of affection accompanying the gesture almost dizzying in its intensity, and then ghosted away, door barely a squeak of hinges as he left the room.  
  
Without Jen’s grounding presence, Jay concentrated on breathing slowly and consciously, trying to focus his scattered thoughts. He felt strange, fractured, streams of thought colliding and shattering while a pain he couldn’t place sliced at his awareness. Though he could see the pale walls and neat equipment that surrounded him, in the back of his mind he could see persistent visions of blood and smoke, the refracted view of battle seen through more than one pair of eyes.  
  
And in the middle of it, Jen. Jen in battle was somehow graceful, moving swift and sure through the chaos of combat, perfectly attuned to Jay so that his physical assault on enemy infantry flowed in perfect synchronicity with the energies of the psychic battle Jay would be waging against the lector psion until, Jen striking as Jay pierced his opponent’s defences, together they could be victorious.  
  
The thoughts fractured again, _blood smoke battle_ now overlaid with other memories - the image of violent fury that Jen could embody set against the memory of his touch, just a few nights before, gentle and intense and desperate with the love and fear he knew Jen felt for his safety. He rarely felt Jen’s absence - almost always, whether they should be safe or not, Jen would be there, watching over him.  
  
Jay curled on his side, hugging his knees, wondering how he could be as still as it seemed he was when everything within him seemed to be in constant and unsettling motion. He bit his lip and breathed and tasted blood.  
  
\--  
  
As he stepped out of the medical building, Jen glanced at the inner shield that domed over the base. It glittered against the smoke beyond, emitting prismatic bursts under the impacts of shellfire and psionic assault. Despite the generator crew being one down, it looked to be holding strong.  
  
Now that his Psion was taken care of, his first duty was to file a report. He crossed the compound to Records, almost mechanically detailing a brief summary of their encounter and subsequent retreat. The clerk on duty raised an eyebrow at his bloodstained and grimy clothing, but stamped in his report regardless.  
  
Colonel Morgan wouldn’t have their new orders for at least another hour, so Jen had some time. He trudged wearily across the courtyard again to the barracks, finally gaining the safety of his room. He was too tired to stand on politeness; once his weapons were all laid carefully across the bed, he kicked off his boots and stripped off the rest of his uniform, leaving it strewn across the floor in a trail to the shower.  
  
Dust and blood made a swirl around his feet, and he waited until the water ran clean before quickly washing, towelling off and pulling on a fresh uniform. He wanted to get back to Jay, but he’d be no use to his Psion if he didn’t eat.  
  
He stopped by the armoury on his way to the mess. The sergeant on duty saluted sharply. “Is there a problem, sir?”  
  
Jen set down his stack of armour on the counter. “There’s some damage to my armour,” he said. “If it can’t be repaired by tonight I’ll need replacements.”  
  
The sergeant nodded, taking the stack. “Yes sir, I’ll get on it right away.”  
  
Jen nodded, turning, and headed to the mess.  
  
Given it was mid-afternoon, the mess hall was mostly empty. Jen grabbed a tray and filled the plate - he didn’t much feel like eating, but Jay tended to get irritated with him if he didn’t and a chance to eat something other than ration bars was rare for both of them these day. He took an empty table and ate mechanically, not really paying attention to anything. Jay was in the infirmary, and he was alone, and that soft scrape was a footstep behind him.  
  
He twisted abruptly in his seat, gun halfway out of its holster before recognition hit. He was back at base, and that was Gwen and Ian he’d almost drawn on. He eased the weapon back down, relaxing slightly. Gwen had a neat line of stitches across her cheek and was moving carefully, as if she was in pain. Ian raised an eyebrow, querying, and Jen shrugged. He wouldn’t be good company, but they were welcome to join him if they wanted.  
  
Ian helped Gwen into a chair before sitting himself. “Jen,” he said, Welsh lilt almost warm in tone. “I didn’t know you two were back. Where’s your other half?”  
  
Jen’s lips tightened. “Infirmary,” he said. “We came in this morning.”  
  
Ian winced. “How is he?”  
  
“Overstretched,” Jen said. “You?”  
  
Ian shrugged. “Ah, got caught between two enemy columns.”  
  
“Bad intel,” Gwen muttered, stabbing something unidentifiable on her plate viciously with her fork. “We shouldn’t have even been there.”  
  
Ian squeezed her hand, and she grimaced, but eased off on the fork. “How long are you on base?” he asked.  
  
Jen shrugged. “As soon as they can shove Jay out of the bed, probably,” he said, scowling down at his plate.  
  
Ian snorted. “The way things are going you’ll be lucky if you get til morning. We’re moving out tonight. Only recon, in theory, but-” he shrugged.  
  
Jen nodded. He knew what Ian meant. Recon missions always turned into combat missions, these days, no matter what the orders were. There were just too damn many of them. “Yeah,” he said.  
  
“We’ll manage,” Ian said, picking up his fork. “We always do.”  
  
\--  
  
After he ate, Jen stopped by the infirmary again to check on Jay. He was sleeping - a little restlessly, but it was still an improvement. Jen ghosted to the chair and sat down, easing one careful hand over Jay’s, fisted in the hospital blanket. The physical touch seemed to help; Jay quieted a bit, seeming to sleep easier.  
  
Jen couldn’t stay long, not yet - he still had to report in to Colonel Morgan’s office - but he could do this, be here, for a little while.  
  
When his watch said it had been an hour and a half since his report had been filed, he eased upright, stealing out of the room again. The light was dimming as he crossed the compound, although the bursts against the shield splayed flashes of coloured light across the courtyard in irregular patterns. He tugged his uniform straight before he entered Colonel Morgan’s office, then rapped sharply on the door and let himself in.  
  
The Colonel was seated behind his desk, stack of reports in a tray and several more spread out in front of him. He glanced up as Jen entered, and Jen came to attention and saluted.  
  
“Good to see you back, Jen,” he said, smiling. “At ease.”  
  
“Sir.” Jen shifted into parade rest, eyes straight ahead.  
  
“I read your report. Good work, from both of you. The shield breach was a clusterfuck, and you handled it well.”  
  
“Sir.”  
  
Morgan paused a moment, pulling one report towards him. “You put in for leave. Why?”  
  
“My Psion is overstretched, sir. We cannot maintain our operational efficiency without a chance for him to recharge his energies.”  
  
Morgan nodded slowly. “I’d like to oblige you, Lieutenant, and with luck we’ll be able to give you that break soon, but not yet. Without the shield weakened and a lector offensive expected we can’t afford to lose you two out there. I’m not recording any criticism of your early return, but you’re to head back out to your sector in the morning.”  
  
Behind his back, Jen’s hands clenched on each other. “Sir-”  
  
“By seven, Lieutenant. Dismissed.”  
  
Jen saluted mechanically and stepped out, expression carefully blank as he headed back to the infirmary. Colonel Morgan was the best administrative commander the Auxiliary Corps had, which was why he was in charge of Field Pair assignments, but he wasn’t a Psion or a Guardian himself. He didn’t understand - couldn’t understand, beyond numbers and reports - the true nature of psionic power and the bond between Psion and Guardian. Jen couldn’t read Jay’s mind like Jay could his, but he could tell that Jay wasn’t okay.  
  
He took the stairs two at a time. If Morgan wanted them out by seven, he’d need to get some rest himself, and soon. He pushed open the door into the corridor, and immediately heard a scuffle from down the corridor, running feet and raised voices. He could sense, sudden and sharp, that there was something off about Jay, and he pushed down a rush of fear, breaking into a sprint. There was a knot of people milling outside Jay’s door, and Jen pushed them aside roughly to get into the room.  
  
He took in the scene in a fraction of a second. Four orderlies surrounded the bed, trying to pin Jay down as he thrashed, struggling to throw them off. Two more were slumped unmoving against the wall, cracks in the plaster showing where they’d been thrown.  
  
“Back off,” Jen barked, and moved to the bed, yanking the orderly who blocked his way roughly aside. “Jay, man, what’s going on?” He pressed his palm to Jay’s chest, trying to project soothing thoughts. Jay twisted under him, blindly yanking his wrist free as one of the orderlies tried to strap it into restraints. Jen felt Jay’s power surge around him, and a split second later the orderly was flying across the room into the wall, sliding down to join the others.  
  
Jen snapped his best glare at the other. “I said back off,” he growled. “Now.”  
  
“Sir, he’s out of control - we need-”  
  
“He’s _my Psion_ ,” Jen snarled. “You need to get out, now. I’ll handle this.”  
  
He turned his attention back to Jay as they finally obeyed, dragging the unconscious men out with them. “Jay - _Jay_!”  
  
He shifted his hands to Jay’s shoulders, pushing him back to the bed as he thrashed, trying to keep him from hurting himself. Jen was normally the stronger of the two of them, but Jay had a few inches on him, and he was moving with a wild strength. Jen shifted more of his weight on the bed, then gave up and just crawled on top of Jay, pinning him down as he talked, trying to get Jay to recognise his voice.  
  
“Jay, man, come back to me.”  
  
Eventually, Jay calmed. Jen stayed where he was, catching his breath and trying to pull his own emotions under control. After a moment, Jay shifted under him, more calmly.  
  
“Jen?”  
  
“Hey.” Jen lifted his head so he could look into Jay’s eyes. “What happened there? You were pretty out of it.”  
  
“Just... a bad dream, I think.” Jay closed his eyes. “How long have you been here?”  
  
“Only just now,” Jen said. He shifted to the side, easing his weight off Jay. “You had me pretty worried there, you know.”  
  
“Sorry.” Jay exhaled, curling his body into Jen’s. “Can you - can you stay for a few minutes? I know you probably have things to do-”  
  
“As long as you need, Jay,” Jen said, and pressed his lips to Jay’s forehead. “As long as you need.”  
  
\--  
  
Jay lay in the darkness, listening to Jen’s heart beat slow and sure under his ear. Jen had shed the rough, uncomfortable fabric of his uniform shirt at Jay’s request, and his skin was warm beneath Jay’s cheek. He could just feel the ridge of the narrow scar that marked Jen diagonally almost from shoulder to hip, a slip that Jay still regretted.  
  
He could map the lines of bone and muscle with his touch, if he chose, skin stretched too tightly across them. The contact made it easier to feel Jen’s mind, his anchor in the storm that rocked his equilibrium. Jen was still awake, if drowsing - he rarely slept unless Jay did, and he always knew if Jay was truly asleep or not. Jay could feel the currents of his thoughts - he was worried, and angry, and tired, emotions swirling around a solid and comforting core of the love and care he felt for Jay.  
  
Jen never said how he felt, confident that Jay knew - and he did, even when Jen’s mind wasn’t this open to him. It was written in his body, the way he moved with him, flawlessly enmeshed in the lines of force and power Jay mustered in battle, even as he moved around him, protecting.  
  
He realised he was shaking, his whole body trembling. Jen’s arms tightened around him, and Jay forced himself to even his breathing, to try and stay calm even as his silent tears dampened Jen’s skin.  
  
\--  
  
Dawn found Jen awake again. He’d caught a few hours once Jay finally managed to sleep, but mainly in snatches, concern for his Psion warring with his trained ability to sleep when and wherever he had to. Jay was sleeping still, albeit fitfully, face still drawn.  
  
Jen carefully extricated himself from the bed, pulling his shirt on and tugging his uniform into order. He slung his belt over his shoulder, picked up his boots, and slipped out of the room, making sure the door was closed before getting dressed the rest of the way. Jay was sleeping; Jen wasn’t going to wake him a moment before he had to.  
  
Once everything was buckled and laced into place, Jen stalked grimly to General Pasdar’s office. He hadn’t ever gone over the head of Colonel Morgan like this before - had never had a need to do so. But Jay’s health was at stake, and the General had been bonded, once - was still a Guardian. He would understand, had to. Jay was too important to lose.  
  
The General’s office door was open, the General himself seated behind his desk, looking through a stack of papers. His expression was closed off, not giving anything away, but he seemed a little tired around the eyes. Jen knocked on the doorframe, then came to attention and saluted.  
  
“At ease,” the General said, nodding.  
  
“Permission to speak freely, sir?”  
  
General Pasdar set down his papers, interlocking his fingers together. “Go ahead.”  
  
“Sir, we can’t go back out there today.” Jen swallowed. “Jay’s in bad shape. We barely held it together last night. If we go straight back to combat... I can’t say he’s going to make it back.” Unspoken, the knowledge that if Jay didn’t make it back, Jen wouldn’t either. Jen would die before seeing Jay harmed, and the General had to know that.  
  
The General looked at him seriously, leaning back in his chair. “I see.” He exhaled. “I know what you’re going through, Lieutenant-” he paused. “Jen.” He ran a hand through his hair. “When I was a Guardian I lived every day with the fear of losing my Psion, my _brother_. When he died... it was like my whole world fell apart.”  
  
He stood, and came around the desk, leaning against it. “But we knew the risks when we signed up to the Corps, and we were fighting to save the human race. We still are. It’s not easy, and it’s not fair, but we’re the last and only hope for everyone we left behind. I think you’ve already found you’re stronger than you ever knew - both you and Jay will find reserves you haven’t begun to draw upon yet. You can do this.”  
  
Jen shook his head. He was trying his best to keep his normal blank face, but some of his desperation was showing, lacing through his voice as he answered. “Sir, even just a couple of days. He - he’s not ready to handle it again.”  
  
Pasdar sighed. “He has to be. We can’t afford to be without the two of you in the field right now, not with the generator casualties and enemy activity on the rise. I know you remember what happened to your family when the lines broke - the stakes here are just too high. I need you out there.”  
  
Jen stared at him blankly. “Sir,” he said tonelessly, then turned on his heel and left without so much as a salute.  
  
\--  
  
Beyond the relative security of the outer shield, it was almost easier to hold himself together. Jay found he slipped readily into the focussed awareness his surroundings demanded, letting his power wrap around them both. This was no-man’s land, the terrain riven and treacherous with the wounds left by artillery and hard-fought battles. Streaks of dirty glass were a slick risk in the light rain that was falling as Jen, leading the way, struck out towards the east.  
  
Something brushed against the edges of his awareness - enemy contact. Reflexively, Jay blanked his mind. They were in the open, too vulnerable, too close to the shields, and he was feeling too raw to want to take on combat if he could avoid it. He saw Jen pull weapons as he felt Jay’s sudden stillness, scanning the broken ground warily with a gun in one hand and a blade in the other. Jay didn’t dare let himself focus enough now to reassure him.  
  
Finally the searching mind moved on, and Jay relaxed. “Clear,” he said softly, and Jen nodded, sheathing his weapons.  
  
It was well past noon when they reached their first objective, a rocky outcrop from the escarpment that looked towards enemy territory, on the outskirts of their sector. In the distance, Jay could see the movements of infantry. Lectors and Auxiliary Corps looked, in the distance, equally inhuman, dark and crawling shapes against the dead grey land.  
  
It was often hard to spot what they were looking for - moving with infantry, lector psions were camouflaged well, but a column with psionic support could annihilate troops that would otherwise hold their own. The Corps didn’t have Psions enough to try the same tactics.  
  
Jen nudged him gently, then pointed out two groups of infantry, both relatively near their position. “Check those.”  
  
Closing his eyes, Jay scanned with his mind, probing carefully in case of counter-attack. “Northeast column has sixteen,” he said. “Southeast, eighteen. No psions.”  
  
“Sixteen minds and seventeen bodies,” Jen said, and triggered his radio. “Field Pair sector 7 to Auxiliary Corps, lector column without psionic support sighted.” He gave the coordinates and heading of the southeast column, waited for acknowledgement, and signed off.  
  
“Northeast are heading towards the base,” he said, glancing at Jay and moving back from the edge. “If they hold course they’re going to come up by that ravine due east of seventh pylon. They’ll probably just go with psionic scouting - they usually do.” His tone was critical. “If you can blank til they’re in the gully this should be easy.”  
  
Jay shifted back with him, matching Jen’s stride. “I can do it,” he said, although he wasn’t wholly confident, control somewhat unsteady.  
  
They got to the ravine well before the enemy column did, Jen leading Jay as he concentrated on carefully shielding his mind from possible probing. Lying flat on the dusty rock outcrop, Jen inched to the edge, tugging compact binoculars from a pocket on his thigh.  
  
“They’re still heading this way,” he told Jay.  
  
A light breeze stirred the dust against his skin as they waited. Jay concentrated on holding the blank passivity that would shield his presence from psionic searching, peripherally aware of the poised calm with which Jen waited, watching. When the contact came, it almost shocked him into letting his control slip - a brush against his mind, then another, more aggressive strike at the void. He didn’t think he’d been found, but this one was canny, or paranoid, or both.  
  
Still more time passed, and the shadows lengthened. The ravine sloped to the east, and this late in the afternoon the light would be poor. This would probably be in their favour in the actual fight, but it meant that as the enemy soldiers entered the long shadow of the escarpment in their dark camouflage, they blended into the dust of the plain and their movements grew harder to track.  
  
Jen inched back from the edge, tucking his binoculars away. Jay watched him check the clips of his guns and loosen his swords in their sheaths, readying for combat. Apparently satisfied, he moved to where Jay was crouched and knelt in front of him.  
  
“Ready?” he asked, his voice barely a breath on the wind.  
  
Jay nodded, and Jen leaned forward and kissed him, warmth and tenderness radiating from the contact, at odds with the deadly warrior Jay saw when he opened his eyes. It was time to focus.  
  
They took position halfway along the ravine. Jay rested his fingertips against the back of Jen’s neck, letting the lines of his power wrap around him, ready to begin the attack. As the first dark shapes drew level with them, Jen leapt, his body washed for a moment in the reddened light of the sinking sun. Jay saw Jen covered in the blood he’d shed and spilled, tasted copper on his tongue. The thunder of artillery that was a constant rumble in his ears grew overwhelming, drowning out all other noise. In that instant, Jen was falling, not cushioned by Jay’s telekinetic hold but dropping uncontrolled. His frantic grab at his Guardian only threw Jen sideways, and Jay watched in shock as Jen twisted in the air, tumbling into the rocks. He was still for a long, awful moment before he scrambled to his feet and brought both guns to bear on the lectors, firing smoothly and rapidly and ignoring the bright points of pain along his side.  
  
Jay didn’t have time to think about what had gone wrong - collecting himself, he split. His true self stayed crouched over the ravine, creating lines in the air that guided enemy bullets to slide past Jen, his second self coalescing behind the lines of infantry, just barely translucent, building a wall of force to block their retreat as Jen bore down from upslope.  
  
The duality of his split self, both separate and united, was usually simpler than this. It took him long moments they couldn’t afford to waste to sort of the confusing incoherence of the two visions into clarity, to settle himself into being both here and there, and in those moments a misdirected bullet creased Jen across the shoulder, striking his battle armour and knocking him back a step. Jen’s expression didn’t change and he didn’t look away from his targets for so much as a second, but Jay could feel his pain through the link that bound them. Six bodies already littered the ravine as Jen paused in his firing to change clips in one fluid movement.  
  
As he did so, it seemed, the other psion had gathered his on focus. Jen’s next shots struck an invisible barrier and fell among the rocks. The Jay below saw Jen meet his eyes for the barest moment as he holstered his guns and drew his swords. He nodded, and split again.  
  
The third Jay was transparent as a ghost. Jay watched from above and below as he moved with Jen, following as his Guardian spun through the melee, shielding him from assault and forming his own strikes along the edge of Jen’s blade, piercing the shields that protected their opponents. Jen was brilliant and unpredictable. Only the feel of the movements as they shaped in his mind and reflexes let Jay follow him, and the lectors had no such connection. One fell, and another, then a quick reverse struck cleanly where the shields had shifted to anticipate the strike he hadn’t made, and Jay let his own power lash out along the line, shearing through four soldiers who fell bleeding to the ground.  
  
That left only the psion standing in the open, but he realised at the same moment Jen did that the shadows in the ravine held no others - and that was four too few for this column.  
  
Jay looked around, trying to see them, but his vision was filled with the sheer walls of the ravine. Desperately, he tried to control his focus, to see what his true self should see. He inhaled raggedly and concentrated on Jen’s battle with the psion. Jen was probing, making rapid strikes against the psion’s defences, trying to find the opportunity for Jay to pierce the shield.  
  
Jay grasped for control, nothing answering. He couldn’t do it, his power failing him, and the artillery thundered loud again in his ears as his focus scattered. The self that blocked the bottom of the ravine wavered and dissipated, and he felt the sudden surge of fear and worry that rippled back over his link with Jen.  
  
In the sudden respite of one less thing to hold, he felt the missing lectors. Two had climbed the escarpment on the other side, bring their guns to bear on him, as the other two closed in on him.  
  
Below, Jen was retreating, pressed hard and unable to make ground against the other psion.  
  
Jay had failed him.  
  
Rising to his full height, Jay threw his head back in a wordless scream as he summoned all his power, though he’d lost any semblance of control. It ripped out in force and flame, cracking the stone around him and searing the soldiers above the ravine almost to ash in an instant. Below, the other psion faltered, overwhelmed by the psionic resonance. Jen lunged forward, striking a blow that almost cut the lector in two before the Jay shadowing him winked out of existence, the ground beneath him shuddering, sending him stumbling into solid rock.  
  
As the edges began to crumble and rocks fell scattering into the ravine, Jay’s body fell limp into the dust.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope no-one loaded the previous chapter in the thirty seconds before I edited it to correct having it *finish there*.
> 
> Oops.

The sudden absence of Jay’s power around him washed like ice across Jen’s skin. Stumbling over the breaking ground and bruised by falling stones, he scrambled awkwardly towards the top of the ravine. He felt strangely drained and unbalanced, and he barely avoiding falling several times as the rock crumbled out from under his boots. When he finally made the upper ridge of the escarpment, he took in the scene where his Psion had fallen.   
  
The rock was scarred and fractured outwards, streaked with char and littered with remains, so seared and broken they were unrecognisable. At the centre of the crater lay Jay, unmoving.   
  
Jen stumbled towards him and fell heavily to his knees by Jay’s side. “Jay? Jay, man, wake up.”   
  
He ran his hands over Jay’s chest, feeling for a pulse, a breath, for life. Jay was breathing, if barely, although a thin trickle of blood ran from his nose and he was deathly pale. Jen slumped next to him, letting his head fall to Jay’s chest to listen for his heartbeat. For a moment, all he could hear was his own heart pounding in his ears, but then he heard it, faint but there, and was briefly dizzy with relief.   
  
“Gotta go,” he muttered aloud. “Gotta move, Jay, get out of the open.” He mustered what energy he could, trying to overcome the weakness and lethargy that gripped him. “We can’t let them know we survived this.”   
  
He pulled his tags out from under his armour, looking at them for a moment. After his family, the Corps had been the only home he’d had. He’d fought so hard for them, Jay had fought so hard for them, and in return they’d worked him beyond capacity. He breathed out and yanked the chain off his neck, dropping the tags in the dirt. Jay’s tags joined them a moment later, and then he pushed himself to his feet and stomped on them, grinding them into the dust with the toe of his boot.   
  
That done, he summoned all the strength his fear of discovery could lend him, and pulled Jay across his shoulders. He could barely stand under the weight, but still he began trudging, one careful step at a time, into the distance. If they went back, or were found, they’d be sent into battle until Jay died, and that was unacceptable. If they were going to live, they had to hide.   
  
\--   
  
The flash lit the eastern sky. Long before the sound reached the base, the psionic shockwave had washed over the shields in coruscating ripples. General Pasdar reached the generator complex at a run, slamming through the heavy outer doors and into the annex.   
  
“What happened?” he demanded.   
  
Captain Duvall straightened from the desk she was bracing herself against, wiping blood from her nose. “We think it was an undirected psionic surge, sir.” She coughed. “Styris thinks it felt like Jay.”   
  
Pasdar paled. “Do a scan. Find him.”   
  
“It’s going to be a few minutes before anyone’s able to do that, sir.”   
  
“Fine.” Pasdar turned to an aide. “I want every soldier we can get there searching from their last known position. _Now_.”   
  
\--   
  
He’d found the cave months ago, a narrow crevice that opened up into quite a large space, hidden and fairly secure. They’d camped there more than once, boxes of rations and supplies cached for use as a fallback position when they were in the field. It was cold and grimy and Jen was desperately glad of it when, at last, he squeezed himself into it with his burden. Jay hadn’t stirred, but he was still breathing, fast and shallow. His skin was clammy to the touch as Jen, swaying, fumbled to check him over.   
  
“You really did it this time,” he muttered, though whether he was talking to himself or Jay he wasn’t sure. Jay’s pulse was still faint, but it was beating faster than before. Jen wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or bad, but he’d take the fact that it was still beating at all and count himself lucky.   
  
He rolled up a blanket and tucked it gently under Jay’s head, then shook out another one and covered them both with it as he wrapped himself around Jay for warmth. He didn’t think he’d sleep, but his body, at least, should be resting.   
  
Normally, he always had some sense of Jay, in the back of his mind, his location with respect to Jen’s position, whether he was awake or asleep. Instead of all that, there was nothing, a curious blankness that numbed him when he tried to think through it, get to Jay.   
  
Jen swallowed, drawing back mentally, and wrapped himself tighter around his Psion. Jay would wake up. He had to. Jen was still alive, after all. He wasn’t going to lose his home this time.   
  
He dozed for a while, always aware of Jay’s heartbeat under his ear, thin and high. When he came back to himself enough to be aware of surroundings more immediate than the little cave, the little cave was totally dark. Jay was still breathing fast and his skin was warm to the touch, now. Jen fumbled for his canteen without disturbing their blanket nest too much, uncapping it and managing to get Jay to swallow some water.   
  
He took a few sips himself, before setting it down next to the makeshift pillow, tucking the blanket around them again. The place at the back of his mind that was Jay was still bslank, still numb, and it almost seemed to draw at him, beckoning towards oblivion. Jen pulled away reflexively, focusing his thoughts on Jay’s heartbeat. He didn’t want that, not anymore. He just wanted Jay to get better.   
  
He did manage to sleep for snatches, dreams scattered and confusing, full of the thunder of artillery and the taste of blood, sharp and metallic. He woke for good as dawn lightened the air around them. Jay hadn’t moved, not even an inch, face slack. His lips looked a little dry, forehead too warm to touch, and Jen opened the canteen, carefully feeding Jay another few sips.   
  
He set the canteen aside and pulled out a ration bar. It took far more concentration than he should have needed to open the wrapper, and he had to force himself to chew and swallow mechanically, not hungry at all. He still felt far too exhausted, even with his snatched rest, tiredness weighing him down. Really, he shouldn’t feel this bad, even after the fight they’d had - and then he looked down at Jay, pale and unmoving, and swallowed. He was bonded to Jay, mentally and physically, and maybe that was carrying over into his condition now.   
  
If he didn’t do something, he would slip in exhaustion himself, and then all the searching Corps would find would be their corpses. If he didn’t do something, he was going to lose Jay.   
  
Jen took a long drink from the canteen and then wrapped himself tightly around Jay. He steadied his breathing, then let the throb of Jay’s heart fade in his mind, letting himself fall towards the blank space. Jay was there, somewhere, and he was going to find him.   
  
He let the darkness wrap around him, numbing his senses and drawing at his mind. Focussed on Jay, he let himself sink, until everything greyed out into nothing.   
  
\--   
  
_He stands on a trembling plain under a glowing red sky. The pulse of artillery seems to come from everywhere at once, echoing in his ears with no apparent physical source. The ground around him is littered, as far as he can see, with shards of glass, glinting dully in the oppressive light._  
  
 _He crouches carefully, picking one up. In the visible facet is a moving image - himself, as if from someone else’s point of view. He is in his old quarters at the Academy, the room as it had been before Jay had moved in with him. He is sitting cross-legged on the narrow bunk cleaning a gun, disassembled parts spread in front of him on a cloth. He looks up, meeting the gaze of the unknown observer and starting to speak, and then the scene dissolves into fading sparkles, the glass going dull._  
  
 _He puts the shard down where he found it, lifting his hand to discover a trickle of blood running from his fingers, glass so sharp it has sliced his skin unnoticed. Red droplets scatter across splinters of glass, reflecting the light so they almost seem to glow._  
  
 _“Jay?” he calls, his voice barely audible amid the racket of artillery. “Jay!”_  
  
 _A wind stirs across the plain, lifting a glittering dust from the ruined glass around him. It scores his skin painfully as it blows past him, but he doesn’t flinch, even as more of his blood drips to the ground._  
  
 _“Okay, Jay,” he says softly, thinking out loud. “This isn’t my nightmare. It’s yours. Which means you’re here somewhere. Maybe everywhere.” He looks down, watching himself bleed into the landscape of Jay’s shattered mind. “And nothing’s really a metaphor.” He orients himself into the wind, lifting his chin. “Whatever’s here, I’ll wait it out. I’m not leaving you.”_  
  
 _A voice carries on the wind, almost indistinct. “Let me go, Jen.”_  
  
 _“No.” He folds his arms and waits._  
  
 _In answer, the ground buckles beneath him. The sound of cracking rock makes his ears ring, sudden throwback of memory to the attack on the column, only this time he’s falling without Jay’s power around him, no control. He plummets into water, cold tightening like iron around his chest. He surfaces, rough waves breaking over his head, and almost chokes, coughing as he struggles to stay afloat. He treads water, spits into the surf, and looks around._  
  
 _It takes him a moment to spot Jay’s body, being tossed in the waves, naked and pale and fragile. Battling the currents that want to drag him away, he swims towards him, closing the distance almost by sheer force of will. He wraps one arm around Jay’s limp body, keeping his head above the water, and strikes out awkwardly for the distant shore._  
  
 _It seems an eternity before he staggers onto the beach, and it’s only as he drags Jay up above the breaking waves that he realises it’s not composed of sand, but rather finely-ground glass dust. He’s still bleeding, and his hands leave red streaks on Jay’s skin as he presses his palms to Jay’s chest._  
  
 _“Don’t do this to me,” he mutters. “I’m serious, Jay.” He presses harder, willing everything their bond contained into the touch. “Wake up.”_   
  
It was Jen who woke. The cave was dark and chill, and Jay’s heart was racing under his ear.   
  
“Jay.” As he had in the dream, Jen pressed his palm against Jay’s chest. “Come back to me.”   
  
\--   
  
Over the next hour Jay’s breathing eased, heartbeat slowing until it approached normal. When Jen lifted his head to look, colour had started to return slowly to his face. Good signs, all of them, but the place at the back of Jen’s mind was still fuzzy, nothing clear coming through. What Jen needed was for Jay to-   
  
And then Jay stirred in his arms, starting to come to consciousness, and it was like the world lit up from the inside. Jen was in Jay’s mind, could feel him waking, feel the shakiness in his limbs and his disorientation, could feel the heat of his own body as he cradled Jay. It was almost overwhelming, and Jen concentrated on breathing, trying to draw back a little. Jay receded a little, distance making it easier to bear, and Jen opened his eyes, shifting up on an elbow to let him look at Jay.   
  
“Hey,” he said, gently.   
  
Jay blinked up at him. Jen could sense his confusion as he sorted through the mishmash of memories, the fight and aftermath, and then sensed it easing. “I think we miscalculated,” Jay said hoarsely, and Jen could sense his thirst, sharp and sudden.   
  
“No,” Jen said, fiercely glad Jay was awake, was okay, and reached for the canteen. “It was a tactical success.”   
  
Jay took the canteen in shaking hands, shuddering. “Jen, I’m glad I’m okay too, but can you think a little less loudly?”   
  
Jen could feel that Jay was in pain, senses still overstretched and raw, and tried to stop broadcasting, although he hadn’t thought he was doing so.   
  
“Jen, _please_.”   
  
Jen stared at him. “I’m really not, Jay,” he said, and then paused, remembering the dream. “Shit.”   
  
“What?” Jay asked, fingers white on the canteen.   
  
Jen pressed his forehead to Jay’s. “I think we’re... connected, somehow.” He tried to modulate his emotions, rein in the maelstrom of relief and worry and rage and love that wracked him. All he was getting from Jay was pain and confusion.   
  
“We’re already bonded,” Jay said. “I don’t understand.”   
  
“It goes both ways now,” Jen said. “I, to get you to wake up, I don’t really know what I did, but I think the bond is a lot stronger. I can sense you now.”   
  
Pain and confusion and shock, and Jen reached out, just a little, thinking ‘ _is this okay? If you don’t want_ ’ and unspoken, unintended bleed through of thought that if Jay didn’t want Jen then Jen would pull back, would shut down as best he could, and then Jay surged up mentally, wrapping himself around Jen, ‘ _I won’t let you don’t you ever, of course I want_ ’ and when he came back to himself his face was pressed into Jay’s neck and he was shaking, Jay’s hands running soothing patterns on his back.   
  
Jen pressed back up and cleared his throat. “I’m okay.”   
  
“You’re about as okay as I am,” Jay said, and Jen shrugged one-handed.   
  
“Well, we got some time to get you better,” he said. “C’mon, time for some food.”   
  
\--   
  
“Well?” General Pasdar strode into the generator complex and glared at Captain Duvall. “Have you found them?”   
  
Duvall rose from her desk and glared right back at him. “If we _had_ , sir, I would have informed you. Daria did a thorough scan of Sector 7 and the surrounding sectors, and she couldn’t locate Jay at all. Am I to understand the ground search was unsuccessful?”   
  
“Yes and no.” Pasdar exhaled and seemed to shrink slightly as his expression eased. “Sergeant Dex recovered their dogtags from the site of the explosion. Jen’s radio is turned off or destroyed.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose tiredly. “I was hoping...”   
  
Duvall sighed herself. “If we pick up anything I’ll tell you, sir, but if we haven’t found anything by now...”   
  
Pasdar nodded, straightening himself, and it was almost as though his moment of non-composure hadn’t existed at all. “I know.”   
  
Duvall glanced sideways at the door to the generator room, and then back at Pasdar. “Any more from Intelligence?”   
  
“Nothing confirmed, just the same hints - that they’re readying for a major assault. Keep everyone on their toes. I’ll let you know when we have more.”   
  
“Yes, sir.”   
  
\--   
  
They spent the next few days in the cave. Jay spent a lot of time sleeping, Jen wrapped around him like a second skin physically and mentally. Once Jay’s initial shock at the vividness of Jen’s new connection with him had passed, he welcomed the deeper bond. He seemed more stable, mentally, than he had before he’d (shattered) taken on the column, and he wasn’t sure if it was due to the new connection, some sort of solid grounding. He hadn’t really tried to do anything yet, just maintaining his personal shields that were all but instinctual by now, but he wasn’t in any hurry. Jen certainly wasn’t acting like they had anywhere to be, thoughts full of concern and care for Jay and nothing about orders or the base.   
  
He’d grown used to the new intensity of their shared emotion. He’d never really been able to hide anything from Jen even before his Guardian was able to feel his every flicker of emotion, couldn’t close off his emotions to that extent. But it made the sudden sense of frozen void that followed when Jen shut down feel almost like a wound.   
  
“When are we due back at base?” he’d asked casually. They’d just woken, faint light of dawn starting to seep into the little cave.   
  
Suddenly Jen was closed off, and Jay recoiled from the sensation, not something he ever wanted to feel again. Just as suddenly the void eased, concern faint but discernable. Jen’s expression was a careful blank but for a muscle twitching in his jaw.   
  
“Jen?” Jay queried, worried himself, now.   
  
“We’re not, exactly,” Jen answered slowly. A shiver of guilt and obstinacy brushed the edge of Jay’s mind. “I didn’t call in. They probably think we went down taking out that column.”   
  
“You didn’t-” Jay realised, suddenly, that he wasn’t wearing his tags, and he hadn’t seen Jen wearing his. “Where’s your radio?”   
  
“Turned off.” Jen looked at him almost imploringly. “We can’t do this anymore, Jay. It’s killing you. I can’t... I almost lost you.” He shook his head. “When you’re stronger we can slip past the lines, get off the front. Find a place a hundred miles from anywhere and just be.”   
  
“But, the war-”   
  
“The war will be here whether we’re fighting it or not. You’ve done enough.”   
  
“I can handle it,” Jay insisted.   
  
“You shouldn’t have to!”   
  
Jay cupped Jen’s cheek in his palm. “You know I do.” Like a dam breaking, the wave of _fear love worry_ rushed over him, Jen finally opening up. He pulled Jen close and hugged him tightly.   
  
“No decisions yet, okay?” Jen said finally, breath warm on Jay’s neck.   
  
“Jen-” Jay started, and then a flash from outside lit the cave, followed a moment later by the distant sound of a concussive shockwave. Jen pulled away from him abruptly, snatching up a gun from where his weapons were laid out close to hand and pressed himself against the rock at the entrance, listening. Another flash went off, then another, and Jay pushed himself up so he was seated.   
  
Jen turned back towards him, gun easy by his side. “It’s coming from the base, not near here,” he said, coming back over and sliding the gun back in its holster.   
  
Jay hesitantly extended his senses for the first time since the last combat, relieved when his power seemed to respond as he expected. “They’re hitting the shields,” he said. “Pretty hard-” He broke off as he scanned further, paling. “They can’t hold out against this. We need to go and help.”   
  
“No,” Jen said immediately. “You’re not _nearly_ healed enough for that.”   
  
“Yes,” Jay said, getting to his feet. “I am.”   
  
“You aren’t,” Jen said. “Don’t make me knock you out to keep you from killing yourself.”   
  
Jay reached out to Jen, touching his arm lightly and letting his power spool out in lines of intangible force. He enveloped Jen in his normal set of shields, showing Jen mentally that he wasn’t lying as he met his eyes. “Trust me.”   
  
Jen sighed. “Hand me my armour.”   
  
\--   
They moved through the desolate terrain at speed, each hyper-alert for signs of the enemy. The air was still under a leaden sky, the atmosphere ominous and oppressive. Jay felt as if a massive weight was pressing down from the sky onto the landscape. He suspected it was a side-effect of the heavy psionic assault taking place ahead, but it was still unnerving.   
  
He was still more disconcerted when they approached the outer shields that should have protected the base, and found they weren’t there. The pylon was cracked into half-molten fragments, and the ground was heavily pocked with burn scars. Wordlessly, they picked up the pace, heading towards the complex at a run.   
  
It was a scene of devastation.   
  
Bodies from both sides littered the ground for some distance from where the fighting was on in earnest. Jay could sense flickers of life from some, but not many. Ahead of them, a ragged line of enemy troops was still pushing at the defenders, who looked still more ragged yet. The outer shield to the complex was barely holding, under heavy fire.   
  
In the thick of the fray, General Pasdar was almost single-handedly holding the line, a gun in one hand and sword in the other. Major Anderson stood a pace behind, face expressionless, but Jay could sense the power that pooled around her, no energy wasted on stealth. She was shielding Pasdar as though he was her Guardian, allowing him the freedom to fight with the fury that had made him a legend.   
  
Further down the line, he thought he saw the flash of Daria’s blonde hair, and even further along could sense the sharp flare of Ian’s power. No time to spare to think about what Daria, as a generator Psion, was doing in the midst of the fight, and where their other friends were. If the complex fell here, the destroyed pylons would tear a hole in the Protected Zone too big to recover from.   
  
Jay looked at Jen, and quirked a half-smile. Jen looked rueful, then nodded and drew his weapons.   
  
They charged.   
  
  
\--   
  
Captain Duvall felt the next barrage coming and focussed, shielding the other generator Psions as much as she could. At least half of them were barely conscious by now, struggling to hold up against the concerted attack. She wiped sweat from her eyes and blinked uncertainly, staring at the enemy lines.   
  
Something was happening on their southern flank, upheaval in the ranks, and then the psionic assault against them faltered for a second, returning slightly weaker. She could sense nothing but the enemy in that area, but there was some kind of battle happening, and then a flare as one of the lector psions fell. Then enemy in the area scattered away, clearing some room, and she saw them.   
  
Jen was leading, firing steadily with the gun in one hand as he twisted with lethal grace through the enemy lines, cutting down lectors with the blade in his other hand as if they barely concerned him, expression calm and intent. Jay was shadowing him, movements so in sync with his Guardian that for a moment she thought she was seeing double.   
  
Duvall almost didn’t think to block the next wave of attacks. She could see Jay, and feel the power bleed of the psychic assault he was making on the enemy, in time with and along Jen’s strikes, but she couldn’t sense his mind at all.   
  
They broke through the line a moment later, heading straight towards her, still with that unspoken synchrony.   
  
“Miss us?” Jay asked as they got closer, just loud enough for her to hear.   
  
She had to choke back the near-hysterical laughter that threatened. “You’re late, Lieutenant,” she answered. Close up, the fact that she _still_ couldn’t locate Jay mentally was really starting to disturb her.   
  
Jen and Jay glanced at each other, and then back at her. “We’ll take out the psions,” Jay said. “If you locate and mark them for us, we’ll do the rest.”   
  
It was almost an order, but Duvall didn’t really care about rank at this point, not when they had a damn good plan. “Your first psion is _there_ ,” she said immediately, marking the nearest lector forming part of the psionic assault, and Jen and Jay turned as one.   
  
They charged back into the fray, Jen starting to carve his way straight to the psion, and Duvall found herself smiling as she turned to the Psions nearby.   
  
“Locate their psions, and mark the bastards for Jen and Jay!” she hollered, and blocked the next assault with a new rush of strength. Maybe they could win this after all.   
  
\--   
  
It was almost sunset before the last of the fighting ceased.   
  
Jen was sitting on a fallen barricade, tying a field dressing neatly around his arm, where a psionic strike had (just barely) made it through Jay’s shields. It was awkward with one hand, and he had to tighten it with his teeth. Jay was sprawled flat on the ground beside him, breathing in steady gasps. _He’d_ managed to come away mostly unscathed, at least, although a gash on his cheek was still bleeding sluggishly, the legacy of a bullet he’d barely deflected.   
  
“Thought I’d be seeing you again,” Dex said from the side, and Jen tugged a final time on the bandage and then lowered his arm.   
  
“I’d get up, but,” he said, and then shrugged, gesturing downwards to where another field dressing was strapped tightly across his thigh, blood staining his pants beneath.   
  
Dex grunted, moving across to where he could see both of them. “Thought you might be wanting these,” he said, and tossed something fast at Jen.   
  
His hand snapped up automatically and plucked it out of the air, Jen swearing after the fact as he pulled his wound. Dex just smirked, and Jen opened his palm, revealing his and Jay’s dogtags, cleaned and on fresh chains.   
  
“They sent you to get the tags?” Jen said, looking back up at him, and Dex shrugged.   
  
“Wasn’t gonna put them on the Wall till you were actually dead,” he said. “Figured you’d be wanting them back.”   
  
Jen nodded, separating out Jay’s tags and dropping them on his chest with a jingle of chain. He slipped his own over his head, tucking them under his shirt. The metal was a quick burst of cold against his skin, quickly warmed. Beside him, Jay grunted as he shifted to get the tags on with the least possible effort.   
  
“How we doing?” Jen asked, nodded towards the battle zone. Jay was out, out of energy and out of the fight, luckily draining himself only _after_ they’d dropped the last psion, and Jen wasn’t leaving his side for a second. Since everyone who could walk was either helping to clean up or holding the perimeter, there hadn’t been much of a chance to find out the news, or the body count.   
  
“Perimeter is holding with no further action,” Dex said. “Shield is steady and back to three quarters of capacity.”   
  
Jay cleared his throat, not bothering to lift his head from the dirt. “What about the others?” he asked. “Our friends-”   
  
Jen could feel his apprehension. During the fight they hadn’t had the energy to spare on anything other than killing the lector psions as fast as they could, and now Jay was drained, nothing left to do a scan and unsure as to whether he could even _stand_.   
  
“We took heavy casualties,” Dex said. “Malcolm and Morenna delayed the first wave enough to get our secondary shields up.”   
  
Jen nodded carefully, could feel the thin trail of grief from Jay. “Who else?” he asked.   
  
Dex winced. “Daria and Greg,” he said.   
  
“ _Shit_ ,” Jen said, and _shock loss grief_ flooded through the link as Jay stopped breathing for a second.   
  
“Daria,” he whispered.   
  
“Thought we saw her in the ranks earlier,” Jen said. “What was she doing in the open?”   
  
“We didn’t have enough Psions shielding the Auxiliaries,” Dex said. “We lost two divisions before they asked for volunteers from the generator Psions.”   
  
Jay lifted a hand enough to scrub over his face, tears leaving clean trails in the dust that covered him. “Who else,” he asked, his voice hoarse.   
  
“No more dead,” Dex said. “Ian’s fine, and they’re operating on Gwen now, looks like she’ll pull through okay.”   
  
Footsteps approached from behind them, Dex glancing up and then shifting into a salute. “Sir,” he said, glanced at Jen and Jay, and strolled over towards the Auxiliary Corps barracks.   
  
“We thought you boys were dead,” General Pasdar said, coming around in front of them. His uniform was bloodstained, field bandages wound around his chest and arm, but he was smiling. “That was good timing.”   
  
“Sir,” Jen said, tone neutral.   
  
“It’s over, I think,” the General continued, his smile broadening. “They threw everything they had at us, their best psions, and we held the line. Reinforcements are coming to back us up, but we just might have won.”   
  
Jen glanced around, taking in the hundreds of bodies, more still being carried in and laid carefully with the others, and the ranks of wounded. “You call this winning?” He shifted gingerly off the barricade, kneeling carefully beside Jay. The wound on his cheek had stopped bleeding, finally.   
  
“What do you call it?” Pasdar asked. Jen didn’t look up.   
  
“Hell.”   
  
“You got through it,” the General said. “The Corps will be proud of you. Hell, you boys took out almost every psion they sent in today. _I’m_ proud of you.”   
  
“I didn’t do it for the Corps, General, and I didn’t do it for you.” Jen pulled Jay’s arm across his shoulders and carefully helped him to his feet. Jay was staggering with exhaustion, but together they were steady enough to start trudging towards the barracks. “Come on, Jay.”   
  
\--   
  
_Hey Momma - we’re coming home._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading.
> 
> This story meant a lot to me when we wrote it, and still does. It began as a short story that's now part of chapter five, that I (Kalireynn/Sami) wrote for a class, which Vel and I then rewrote and expanded for the J^2 Big Bang in 2008. I think it was 2008.
> 
> I should add that Vel edited the original story extensively to fit in with the expanded work. Reading it now, there's no part of this story that strikes me as entirely hers or entirely mine. This story is entirely ours.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it.
> 
> I hope we still get the sequels finished - we had more stories to tell.


End file.
